


After the Smoke Clears

by pardonmeforyelling



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, emily/jess/matt/mike mentioned, mentions of everyone else - Freeform, post-"Everyone Lives" ending, the rating will change as the story progesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pardonmeforyelling/pseuds/pardonmeforyelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone came down from Mount Washington rattled by a day out of their worst nightmares. Except Josh. Unsure of their friend's fate, Sam and Chris decide to brave the mountain one last time in the hopes of bringing one friend home, and finally laying two more to rest.</p><p>But what waits for them on the mountain is only half the challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this fic for months, but I've finally started doing some steady work on it so I figured I might as well start posting! The first two chapters are all set-up, so they'll go up together. After that I'm gonna post every other day, until I either catch up to what I've got drafted or until the end, depending on how consistently I write! I hope you enjoy!

“I’m staying here.”

Chris looks up from the floor, to Sam standing in front of him, arms crossed. She looks determined, if a little shaken. She’s wiped the blood off her face and arms, but it still weeps from small wounds and clings to her clothes.

It takes a while for him to process what she’s said, and even when he does he can only croak out a, “What?”

She sighs, taking a seat next to him. They’re in a small seating area in the lobby of the police station. Jess is still being questioned, Emily and Matt are sitting as far away from Mike as possible, and Ashley is on Chris’ other side, being distant in a way that’s very unlike her.

“I’m not leaving until… well. Until Josh is recovered, one way or another” she says, voice quiet. She isn’t quite looking at him, but a spot on the floor just past him.

Chris swallows past a lump in his throat before he speaks. “Yeah, I… I’ll stay with you. If- if Mike was wrong, he deserves to be greeted by both his best friends, right?”

Sam finally looks at him, and gives him a small, sad smile. “Thanks, Chris.” Her tone is almost sarcastic, like she knows he won’t be much help. He sprained his ankle jumping down a four foot ledge for God’s sake. And suddenly he sees the Sam from the beginning of the night, lips curled in a condescending smile as she humors his poor attempt at a prank.

He blinks, realizing it had barely been 12 hours since they all first stepped into the lodge. Enough had happened to last them all a lifetime. They all seem like different people now.

One of the doors opened, and Chris and Sam both looked up. Jess was being ushered out, the officer gesturing toward the seating area, murmuring to her. She nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders before shuffling toward them.

Emily stood before any of them could even open their mouths, striding to Jess. Mike stiffened, as if he was preparing to leap between them. But he didn’t move as she approached. Jess stopped in her slow procession, looking tiredly into Emily’s blank face.

Everyone was tense, waiting for a strike, but Em’s arms stayed loose at her sides, even as she braced her feet like she was anticipating an impact. The heavy silence that settled over the group was broken as Emily spoke. “So, you’re okay then.” Her voice didn’t betray any emotion as she stared at the other girl.

Jess’s face crumpled, as if to say ‘do I look okay?’ but didn’t make a sound, waiting for Emily to continue.

She sighed, lifting a hand to card it through her hair. “Look, tonight was seriously fucked up and I’m not even sure these assholes believed a word of what really happened but-” she paused, clenching her jaw as she considered her next words, “I practically chased you out of there, and you almost got killed because of it. I’m… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let this come between us.”

Everyone gaped at the two girls in the center of the room. Emily had never apologized, not for the prank, not for anything.

“No,” Jess choked out, “I mean, I should’ve known better than to chase after him, after last year...”

Their seated audience suddenly looked away, feeling another wash of shame over the event that had set everything into motion. The fact that the last of the Washington children had disappeared into the same mines that swallowed the twins due to yet another poorly-received prank wasn’t lost on any of them.

The silence is oppressive as Jessica and Emily stare at each other, one distressed and broken and the other expressionless, but tense. The rest of the group is practically squirming in their seats, wanting to watch without staring, wanting to speak up without shattering the moment.

Before any of them could decide what to do, Jess was near-collapsed in Emily’s arms, sobbing against her shoulder as she pulled the borrowed blanket ever-tighter. Emily’s stony expression nearly melted away as she buried her face in the other girl’s hair, holding her close.

“Well,” Sam said, looking pleasantly surprised, “I think that was just about the best outcome we could ask for.”

Chris nodded soundlessly, glancing over at Ashley, who was watching the display with a sullen look. It seems Emily’s slap and her shove in the hallway weren’t forgotten. He sighed, slumping back further into the uncomfortable seat.

Eventually Jessica and Emily managed to disentangle and find two seats between their respective boyfriends, never quite fully breaking contact, even as they shifted and changed positions. A hand over another, a head on a shoulder, legs slung over armrests to lay in the other’s lap.

After a while the officers came out, informing them that they had contacted the Washingtons to determine a plan of action, regarding their lodge. “...and Mrs Washington would like us to inform you that they have paid for your return tickets to Los Angeles to be moved forward. You all will be flying home tonight.”

Everyone stared at him, not sure what to think. They paid for their own tickets every year, saving up from jobs and birthdays and holidays if they had to. Buying them months in advance made it easier on the bank, of course. Last minute changes like this were… expensive, to say the least.

The Washingtons clearly wanted them home safe, back with their families in their own homes. They had always been generous with their money, as if that made up for being frugal with their time. Their son had disagreed, but if the twins had ever shared that sentiment, they didn’t say so.

Remembering the younger Washingtons made Chris’ stomach lurch. He had nearly forgotten, in his tired aching numbness. Sam stood up. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I need to make a phone call.” She strode out of the station without waiting for a response, walking into the snowy town in her workout gear without blinking.

Chris tripped over himself in his desperation to follow her. All eyes were on him now, burning a hole in his back. But when the heavy door shut behind him, the freezing wind replaced the sensation. It was warmer here than on the mountain, but only by a few degrees. The sidewalk was still frozen, snow piled along the streets, flakes stinging his face.

Sam was just to his left, leaning against the building below the short staircase. He descended and approached her, not wanting to eavesdrop, but wanting to be involved. He was staying too, after all.

“Melinda, thank you, really.” When had Sam been on first-name terms with the elder Washingtons? “... No, I know. But you have to understand, we aren’t sure what Mike saw. We all saw things that weren’t real. Chris and I thought some masked clown killed Josh, but we were wrong too.”

Chris frowned, disliking the feeling of being talked about behind his back, even if it wasn’t negative. Even if it might mean the Washingtons approving of them staying behind.

“Well, the guest cabin wouldn’t have been hit in the explosion, and a busted window or two isn’t the end of the world. ….Well, they wouldn’t keep the wendigos out even if they were whole, so I don’t think it really matters. ...Yes, I know. I’m not terribly worried about the other local fauna at this point.”

Still, Chris didn’t relish the idea of a wolf creeping in and taking a bite out of either of them. Did wolves attack people?

“Thank you for understanding. When can we expect you guys up here? ...Oh, right. Of course. Well, we’ll keep you posted. Goodbye.” Sam’s voice turned frighteningly cold, and she hit the ‘end’ button with a certain furious vigor.

She turned to Chris, as if unsurprised he had been behind her the whole time. “Can you believe that? Can’t even take time off his goddamn movie for his missing, unstable son. Fuck!” she looked like she was about to hit something, so Chris kept his distance.

“What? Seriously?”

“Yep. Looks like we’re doing this on our own.”

Chis curses, turning to aim a vicious kick at the snow piling on the sidewalk.


	2. Chapter 2

As they wave off everyone else piling into Ubers, Sam and Chris give a slightly different explanation to their friends, knowing they would be dragged back home otherwise. 

“We want to help the search team recover what’s left of Hannah and Beth,” Sam said, “they’re going to want to give them a real burial.” 

“What about Josh?” Ashley asked, tone slightly waspish as she stared at Chris. He could feel himself sweat under her gaze. 

He and Sam looked at each other. “If we find something while we’re getting back to Beth, then all the better.” Sam replied, as if his body- if there was one- wouldn’t be dangling there with the old man’s.

After a variety of skeptical and worried looks, they waved their friends off, watching the cars disappear in the direction of the Calgary International Airport.

“Alright,” Sam turned to him, looking determined, “how are we getting up to the lodge?” 

Chris looked at her, shocked. “What, we’re going up tonight!?” 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Christopher. If Josh is up there starving, I don’t want to waste a second.” 

“Right, right, you’re right. Fuck,” he huffs, running his hands through his hair.

“‘Course I’m right. C’mon, what’s the plan?”

“Uh-” Chris could almost feel the lightbulb go off over his head. “Shit! I drove here this year!” 

Sam stares at him. “You did what?” 

“Yeah! Josh and I were gonna roadtrip it up but then he said he had to fix stuff up- of course, that ended up being a bunch of bullshit. But it was too late to get a plane ticket and I figured he could ride back with me anyway-”

“So,” Sam interrupted him, holding up a hand, “instead of telling me that little factoid while we hoofed it up to the lodge, you decided to regale me with how Harry met Sally?”

“Har har,” Chris replied humorlessly. “The point is my dad’s shitty old truck is parked in a lot across town and it’s got a bench seat for three. ...And a bed that just might fit a possessed friend, if need be,” he adds as an afterthought.  

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Sam said, pulling out her phone to hail a ride for them.

 

* * *

 

They pull up to the front entrance, finding the snow path trampled and muddy. 

“What the hell?” Chris asked, looking around. 

“How long were we in that police station?” Sam muttered, following the path up to the main gate. The previously busted lock was either fixed or destroyed, because the gate was sitting wide open with a bright strip of police tape blocking the path. Chris felt a sick sense of deja vu. 

“Hey!” Sam called, leaning right up against the tape. “Hello?”

One of the cops pacing further up the trail let out an audible sigh before stomping over to them. “What do you kids want?”

“Uh, to go up the mountain? One of our friends is still up there!” Sam insisted. 

The officer cocked a brow like he’d never heard anything so unbelievable. “Right, well. No one can go up until the fire is contained. Turns out frozen wood can still burn.” 

“Shit,” Chris snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

Sam looked stunned. “Well- well how long is it gonna take to contain?” 

“Hours. Days. A week. That’s the thing with forest fires sweetheart, they’re unpredictable.” 

“Hey!” Sam snapped, baring her teeth. “Don’t you call me-” 

“He-hey, okay!” Chris shouted over her, wrapping arms around Sam’s waist to haul her away before she could do more that point furiously in the cop’s unamused face. “Alright, let’s just go.” 

Sam kicked a few times, lip still curled, before wrenching out of Chris’s grasp to storm back down the trail. He jogged after her, throwing a look over his shoulder to see the cop traipsing back towards the railcar, a hand on his radio. 

“Look,” Chris said, catching up to Sam, “we’re both tired, it’s been a hell of a day, and we can’t go up until the fire’s out. Let’s call it a night- er, morning, and get some sleep, okay?” 

Sam sighed, stopping a few feet from the truck. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

“Maybe the Washingtons will lend a hand since we denied the plane tickets.” 

Sam gave a wry smile. “Well, when you say it like that.”

 

* * *

 

Chris rolled over and groaned as light fell across his eyes. “Christ. What time is it?” 

“4pm.” Sam replied easily. 

“Fuck.” 

“Well, we did go to bed at 9 am. I don’t know what you’re expecting.” 

“I guess.” Chris sat up, rubbing at his eyes and studying the room. It was more of a suite, with two rooms sharing a jack-and-jill bathroom, both off a main sitting room with a small kitchenette. Complete with typical mini-fridge, along with a small range and microwave. The Washingtons had paid for two weeks here. Chris was hoping it didn’t take that long. 

“What’s the state of the fire?” he asked, reaching over to the side table to pull his glasses on. When Sam came into focus she was in a robe, leaning against the doorway. Maybe clothing would be today’s priority. 

“Out, but smoldering. The news didn’t say if search crews are going up yet.” 

Chris gingerly flung his legs over the side of the bed, straightening up. “Well, I guess we’ll have to go ask.” 

Sam raised a brow. “You want to go up tonight?” 

Chris started to reply as he stood, but all that came out was a yelp when he put weight on his twisted ankle. He looked down in shock, to see it swollen to the size of a softball. 

“Jeez, Chris!” Sam exclaims, striding over to push him back onto his ass. “You’re not going anywhere with that thing.” 

“Well it’s not like we have time to waste!” he insists, shuffling nervously. 

Sam sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, Chris, I know after what we saw this isn’t going to be much reassurance, but I know what I read in that hospital, and in Hannah’s diary. The… that’s a process that takes some time, okay? Like, days. And there’s no telling when or if Josh is going to make any kind of decision.” 

“I think...” she continues, “that maybe- just maybe- it wouldn’t be the worst idea if we let the search team do their jobs while we recoup, at least until you can walk.” 

Chris groans, flopping onto his back. “I feel sick thinking about lounging around while he’s stuck up there.”

Sam bites her lip before she whispers, “Chris we’re- we’re still not even sure he’s alive.”

He has to swallow down a wave of nausea before he can respond. “Right… right.” No matter what Sam says, he has to imagine Josh is alive. He has to hold on to that hope.

Sam’s phone starts buzzing, alerting for multiple texts, before stopping suddenly to ring for a phone call. They give each other an exasperated look before she pulls it out.

“You elevate that,” she points to his ankle. “And I’ll handle this,” she says, waving the phone.

Chris nods silently, lifting his legs back up onto the bed and gathering all the excess pillows to put under his calf.

Sam exits the room, bringing the phone to her ear. “Hey, Em. Uh-huh. ….Uh- _huh._ Well can you tell Mike to knock it off with the quintuple texting? It makes him look desperate.”

Chris almost laughs at that, but as he lays back in the bed all he can think about is that he’s down here and Josh is up on that mountain. He pushes his glasses up to his forehead, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes as he groans.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes four days of rest for Chris’ ankle to go back to a normal size, and two more for him to return to a normal gait instead of his awkward limp-waddle to and from the bathroom.

He passes Sam in front of the TV, sitting on the couch responding furiously to a string of texts. “Hey, what do you say we get our asses in gear today?”

Sam tosses the smartphone down. “Yeah? You think you’re up for that?”

“Well maybe today can be a prep day. I think we could use some more fitting apparel.”

Sam smirked. “Good, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to be the one to say it.”

Chris stretched, back popping. “Ugh. Let me take a nice, hot shower first?”

“You got it,”  Sam said with a snap of her fingers. “I’ll order us some room service while you’re in there.”

“You’re the best,” Chris called over his shoulder as he stepped into the bathroom.

“I know!”

 

* * *

 

“Jeez,” Chris muttered, looking down at the receipt in his hand, “I didn’t know hiking crap was this expensive.”

“Well, look at it this way,” Sam said, pulling her new backpack further up her shoulder, “now you have to find a new excuse when I invite you out.”

“Usually when people start a sentence like that, they follow it up with _good_ news.”

Sam smiled widely at him, before walking out of the mall. Chris followed her, fumbling with the numerous bags in his hands. He didn’t know how Emily and Jess did it.

Along with new, whole winter clothes, they were now fully stocked with water-proof, shock-proof flashlights, climbing gear, hiking shoes, flares, and a silver shock blanket. It was… a hopeful haul, to say the least.

“Hey,” Chris started, catching up with Sam as they navigated the parking lot. “Don’t you think we should like…. prepare for the worst case scenario?”

Sam paused, putting her hands on her hips. “What do you mean, Christopher?”

He winced. “I mean if we get down there and can’t just talk Josh out.”

Sam sighed, looking pained. “Chris I really don’t want to think-”

“But we should be prepared, right?” he asks. “I mean, better safe than sorry on that fucking mountain.”

Sam looked at the ground, tapping her foot as she thought. She puffed another sigh before looking back up at Chris. “Fine. What do you suggest?”

 

 

After their second stop, they were now armed with bungee cords for the back of Chris’ truck, plastic zip ties, a bolt of fabric suitable for a blindfold, and an intimidatingly large first aid kit.

“I think we scared the poor woman checking us out with all of this,” Sam said as she swung the plastic bag between them.

“Well hopefully it isn’t so incriminating that we get pinned for any kidnappings the next few days.”

Sam laughed at that, shaking her head. “This is Calgary, not LA, Chris.”

“Maybe we ought to check in with the station anyways, let them know what we’re doing and see if they might be any help at all.”

“I suppose we probably should,” Sam said, solemnly. “I’d feel better with a search team behind us.”

“Even if they might not be any good,” Chris muttered. Sam glowered at him, pursing her lips. “I’m just saying, look how well they did with Hannah and Beth!”

Sam turned away, looking out over the parking lot with more interest than normal. Maybe it was a low blow, bringing up her long-lost best friend and partner. But it was true. If they wouldn’t go into the mines before, there was no way they would now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’d like to have a group with us too, but if we get jumped because some tool moves when we tell him not to, I’m blaming you.”

Sam snorts, cutting her eyes at him. “Alright, I’ll take the fall if it makes you feel better.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Chris says in a faux pretentious voice as he pulls the driver door of his truck open, reaching over to unlock the passenger side. He was getting really tired of this whole ‘manual’ thing.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Chris peered out at the setting sun. “So… start the search tomorrow, then?”

Sam gave him a tight smile. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

Chris nodded, taking a turn to return to the hotel. He couldn’t help but fantasize about finding a perfectly healthy, if disoriented, Josh down in the mines, curled in some damp corner, and bringing him back to the luxurious room to let him wash the grime from himself before returning him to his parent’s arms.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, hating how impossible that daydream felt. Hating the new purchases sitting at Sam’s feet, just waiting to restrain a less-than-cooperative Josh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't kidding about this being a slow burn, y'all. Buckle up!


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning they rose fairly late, groggy from oversleeping. They ordered room service brunch and ate slowly while they watched for any more news regarding the now-infamous Mount Washington, and the disappearing siblings. When none came they both showered and headed further downtown, toward the police station.

They met with the sheriff who was heading the growing investigation and explained what they wanted to do. Just tag along with the search and rescue teams already making their way around the Washington property to find their missing friend. The sheriff was already looking harried and over-worked when they burst in, but now looked positively trodden upon.

“Kids, I cannot let you up there,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “It’s a _police_ investigation, and you simply aren’t qualified. If any evidence got damaged because of-”

“Evidence of what?” Chris interrupted, trying and failing not to snap at the woman in front of them.

The sheriff glowered up at him. “This is a dual investigation. We’re recommencing the search for the twins, and for any clues as to what may have happened to them. Now, if you’ll please-”

“Well if you’re searching for both of them, more people is better, right?” Sam insisted. “We can just go with the team looking for Josh, so we won’t interfere with-”

“That isn’t how this works,” the sheriff said, cutting her off. “Now, if you’ll _please,_ ” she repeated, not-so-gently herding Sam and Chris back out into the familiar waiting area before retreating quickly back the way she came.

Sam huffed, crossing her arms. “It was worth a shot, I guess.”

Chris ran a hand through his hair. “It would’ve been the easiest way, probably.”

“Well, we didn’t expect this to be easy, did we?” Sam gave a rueful smile. “Wait here, I’m gonna use the restroom.”

Chris gave her a two-fingered salute before leaning against the wall. He sighs, pulling out his phone. Notifications have been pouring in the past few days as everyone else gets settled back home. He ignores them for now, deciding to handle the situation at hand instead.

He only gets a few tweets deep as he scrolls before Sam grabs his arm, yanking him down the hall.

“Hey-” he shoves his phone back, not wanting to drop it. “What the hell, Sam?”

She shushes him, pulling him against a wall and jabbing her thumb at the closed door next to them. Chris furrows his brow, throwing a furtive glance around the hall before leaning closer, trying to focus.

“- minutes ago, we haven’t heard a thing.” The voice coming from the other end of the radio is staticky, but audible.

“And you’re sure they said they found someone down there?” the sheriff asks.

Sam sucks in a breath, meeting Chris’ eyes, but stays silent.

“...Yes. That’s all we heard before the connection broke very suddenly.”

The sheriff heaves a weary sigh. “Okay, send down the morning group and see if-”

“Hell no!” the other voice immediately snaps. “I’m not risking more of my men to these mines. We’ll wait to re-establish a connection, or for them to return. Nothing else.”

There’s a pause, before the sheriff says, “We’re pulling the investigation.”

Sam and Chris gape at each other from either side of the door.

“What?”

“You heard me. You’re right, we can’t waste any more resources on this. If a fully trained search and rescue team can’t make it out of those mines, some college kid certainly can’t,” the sheriff says crisply.

“Fuck,” the other voice hisses. “Sheriff, with all due respect, they could still come out of there-”

“No. I don’t think they will. You didn’t hear what those kids said, Ranger.”

Chris widens his eyes at Sam, who frowns deeply. Both are surprised that anyone believed a thing that had come out of their mouths that night. But, Chris supposed, the cuts on Jess’ chest, Mike’s lost fingers, Ashley’s blood-spattered form, and another missing Washington was proof enough that _something_ happened up there.

There’s another pause. “Okay. Okay. Shit. We’re packing up now, we’ll be off the mountain before sundown.”

“Glad to hear it. Contact me if you hear anything.”

“Will do,” the ranger responds, voice bitter.

Sam jerks her head, and they slip away as quickly as they can. “Holy shit,” she breathes as they push the doors open and walk down the steps.

“No kidding,” Chris mutters, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

“Well, you know what this means, right?” Sam asks, falling a few steps behind.

Chris turns just before they reach his truck, frowning. “What?”

Sam gives him a steely smile. “The mountain is all ours tomorrow.”

Chris’ heart leaps into his throat. He wants to find Josh, but that radio conversation has his anxiety spiking. “Oh hell.”

“We better get some sleep, Chris."

* * *

 

“Some” is about all Chris gets by way of sleep. And judging by the look on Sam’s face when they meet between their two rooms, she fared about the same. He tossed and turned all night, struggling to fall asleep, and falling prey to terrifying dreams when he did.

Dreams of finding a dead Josh, disemboweled and strung up like a slaughtered pig. Josh, munching on Sam’s recently-dead body while Chris stands, frozen, trying to decide if this is still his best bro crouched in front of him.

They shower and gear up in silence, a somber veil seeming to have fallen around them overnight. A serious glance is all that transpires between them before they leave the hotel room, practically marching down the hall to the elevator, the tension broken by the chipper music.

They toss their packs into the back of the truck, taking greedy pulls from to-go cups of coffee from the hotel’s buffet. The sun is barely risen, casting reddish light over everything. Chris wonders, tiredly, if it's some kind of omen.

Chris tunes into a local news station on the radio as they drive, not caring to find out how Canada’s top pop hits differ from the US’s. There’s no news of the fire, no news of the missing crew, no news of the Washingtons. It feels ominous in the macabre light, but Chris just hopes that means no one will stop them this time.

“So, what’s your theory here?” Chris asks as they wind closer to the entrance to Blackwood Pines.

“What?” Sam asks.

“Well, you were the one who insisted we get a lot of this stuff. I assume you have something in mind.”

Sam sighs, sitting up in the passenger seat. “Okay, so the old guy said it was the mountain that was cursed right?”

Chris tries not to think of the wet sound a decapitated head makes hitting powdery snow. “Yeah.”

“And the spirits sort of… inhabit the mountain, they never leave it,” Sam presses. “Neither do the Wendigos, not even with a full town of people down here.”

He considers for a moment. “Have you thought that might not be by choice?”

“I’m getting to that part, just listen.”

Chris gives a wry smile and almost feels a laugh bubble up, but it’s squashed by the somber reality of their situation. “Alright, alright. Shoot.”

Sam holds her hands out, gesturing vaguely. “The spirit is like… like a pilot, and the victim is a vessel. They would never steer the vessel off the mountain because they don’t want to lose control.”

Chris nods. “And what happens to a wendigo that’s nothing but the pilot and the vessel?”

Sam swallows, leaning against the window. “I… haven’t let myself think that far.”

“Great,” Chris says.

A heavy silence settles over the cabin of the truck for several minutes before Sam breaks it again. “We don’t even know if that’s the case, so let’s not consider it.”

Chris just nods, not trusting his voice.   


 

It’s a long drive to the cable car station. The sun has fully risen by the time they arrive, the sky blessedly blue and clear. Chris parks directly across the front of the gate, hoping to deter anyone else from poking around. He hops out and walks around, joining Sam under the Blackwood Pines sign. She pushes the gate open and they walk in together, eyeing the forest warily.

They make it to the station without incident, and when Sam twists the key to call the car, it putters down to them without a hitch. Chris thinks it lurches more than usual as it begins its ascent, but he attributes it to his nerves and unusually high caffeine level. Josh was always the one to pull all-nighters surrounded by dirty coffee mugs, not him.

The trek up to the remains of the lodge is a quiet one. Neither seem keen to make small-talk at this point, not when so much seems to be hinging on their competence.

They’re almost there when Sam pauses and says, “Hang on.”

Chris freezes, fearing she heard something, before he remembers the distant winter sun beaming down on them. “What’s up?”

“We should see if we can get into the basement of the lodge,” she says. “Y’know, last minute stock-up?”

Chris gives her a quizzical look. “Why, what do you think we’ll find down there?"

Sam sighs. “Well I know for a fact Mike left at least one gun behind. And Josh’s dad could have stocked more somewhere else.”

“Sam, only shotguns are any good,” Chris tells her, brow furrowing. “Besides, we shouldn’t need one. We burned all those things up, and I’m absolutely not using a gun on Josh, no matter what state he’s in.”

Sam holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. After that night I just… feel safer with a gun.”

Chris sighs. “Yeah, I know what you mean. We can go down there, maybe grab a shovel or some rusty pipe?”

Sam smirks. She’d regaled him with the story of her decapitating a particularly crispy wendigo with a shovel she found back when he was bedridden. It seemed like a good tool to have, if only to keep a hungry best friend at arm’s length.

They stride up to the edge of the lodge’s foundation, and survey the damage. Some bigger things are intact, beams, bits of staircases, the chimney. But most of it is ashes and rubble. And in the middle of it-

“Oh God,” Sam breathes.

A twisted skeleton. What was left of Hannah. The other, wilder wendigos are nowhere to be seen, but there, reduced to gristle and bone and teeth, are the elongated remains of the middle Washington.

Chris steels himself, and looks away. “So, how do you think we get into the basement?”

Sam blinks, looking shell-shocked. Finally, she meets Chris’ gaze. “Well, first we go downstairs, right?”

But it’s easier said than done, because when Sam hefts a stone and throws it into the middle of the floor before they step in, it caves immediately, letting loose a cacophony of breaking wood and tumbling shrapnel.

“No go,” she says, frowning.

Chris can almost feel the lightbulb go off above his head. “The window Josh pushed me through. It was the same level as the theater room, so it would be below all this.”

Sam’s eyes light up, and she practically shoves him around the back of the lodge, half-jogging behind him. The window is still wide open, the cement foundation around it solid. Sam slithers through first, assessing the damage. “It… doesn’t look horrible in here,” she calls back out.

Chris comes through next, Sam’s steadying hand on his elbow keeping him from falling flat on his back again. The floor above them is charred, but seems mostly intact, if incredibly fragile. They step lightly, open doors cautiously. It’s almost a relief when they get to the solid cement staircase leading to the basement. Everything down here is untouched. They don’t find any shovels, or rusty pipe, and Sam insists the bat will only be good on a fully-human Josh, in which case they wouldn’t need it anyway.

After a moment of shuffling around, unsure of what to do next, Sam sighs. “I… I found something down here. That night.”

Chris raises a brow, but doesn’t say anything. Sam squirms for a second before continuing. “He was chasing me, and I found the old hotel. It’s connected to their basement, for whatever reason. When I got to the end of the hall, I hid in an old elevator shaft. He- Josh totally missed me.” Sam pauses, biting her lip.

Chris is surprised, to say the least. He was sure Sam got taken by the “killer” that night. They never ended up finding her down there, not until she and Mike burst in upon Josh’s final prank.

“So I kept moving, once I was sure he was gone. And I found- something.”

“What’s something?” Chris asks, mouth feeling dry.

Sam sighs. “It was like- his workshop, Chris. He had all these prototypes and blueprints and journals and- and a shrine for his sisters,”

“Jesus,” Chris murmurs, cutting her off.

Sam meets his eyes, looking determined and a little scared. “I think we should check it out. Maybe we’ll- I dunno. Find something to help.”

Chris runs a hand over his mouth, contemplating. “Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. “Yeah, okay. Let’s try it.”

Sam looks relieved, like she’d expected him to refuse, and they cautiously make their way deeper into the old hotel. Sam leads the way, Chris keeping an ear open for anything strange. He honestly prefers this set-up, because he knows how he panics when he’s face-to-face with those monsters. Not to mention lately Sam had been having trouble hearing on her right side. Ironically, she blames the last few desperate moments in the lodge, when the wendigo was trying to make them flinch and move.

But he trusts Sam’s nerves of steel to aid her well in leading them through the decrepit halls. Chris and Ashley had explored the opposite end, leaving him feeling lost. They make it to the elevator shaft without incident, and Sam helps him hop down onto his still-tender ankle. They crept forward for a few more minutes before Sam stops, letting out a gust of air. “Here it is,” she mumbles.

The sight in front of Chris made his stomach drop. This honestly looked like a place he’d expect to find Jigsaw, or any other notoriously torturous killer. Mock-ups of the giant, gore-splattered sawblades leaned against storage racks full of cardboard boxes in varying levels of rot. Some contained what looked like early versions of the killer’s mask, others held torn gloves, twisted metal, scorched wires.

Sam walked past all of it to the desk, looking sick. She pulled out several files, and set Josh’s cell phone on top of it all. “I think you should see this,” she said quietly, turning and patting him on the shoulder as if consoling an upset acquaintance. “I’m going to take a look around.”

Chris just nods, numbly, before flipping through the papers. Information on Josh’s pills, the side effects, the risks of withdrawal, diagnoses from several therapists, hospital admittance dates. It felt wrong to be reading all of this, like he was prying without permission. He had only seen Josh in the hospital once, when Josh had washed a bottle of sleeping pills down with a swiped bottle of whiskey. That had been so long ago, and Josh seemed like he got better. Chris doesn’t know, now, why he just assumed-

He picks up the phone, feeling strangely detached from everything. He unlocks it, deciding if he’s going to pry he’s going to go full on helicopter parent with it. He reads all the messages, proving that what Josh had been going through was some very intense withdrawals from a very intense anti-depressant. He sighs heavily, feeling nauseous. He should’ve been able to help. Josh should’ve known he’d always be there for him, but maybe Chris didn’t make it clear enough.

Sam taps his shoulder. “Hey.”

Chris turns, raising a brow. He scans her hands and pack for anything new, but comes up empty. “What? Need help with something?”

“Why was Ashley so pissed at you?”

Chris blinks owlishly, surprised. “What?” he repeats.

“When we were sending them all off. I expected a goodbye hug or something, but she looked at you like you kicked her dog. What’s up?”

Chris feels befuddled, suddenly forced to be coherent when he was just drifting. “I… what even made you think of that?"

Sam throws an accusing thumb over her shoulder at one of the replica sawblades.

“Ah, right,” Chris says, forever the eloquent one of their group. “Well, I… may have tried to slice her in half. When I had to choose between her and Josh.”

Sam raised her brows. “Wow.”

“It was a high-stress situation, okay? And everything was moving so fast, and I’ve known Josh for over ten years so-” Chris sighs. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because the thing was rigged. It was always going to go for Josh, obviously.”

Chris bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck. “At first I don’t think she really cared, because in the end, it seemed like I chose her, right? But then I didn’t shoot myself to save her, and I stayed behind to rescue Josh...” He rubbed a hand over his eyes, pushing his glasses up. “I think she found me out.”

Sam gives him a sympathetic look, patting his arm. “Sorry, bud. I know you liked her.”

Chris lets out a chuckle. “I don’t… really think it was all that. Besides, you know how I feel about...” Looking around this room, it was hard to say just how he felt about Josh. His best friend since third grade, the guy he’d had a crush on since he learned what a “crush” really entailed. He’d spent long nights on the phone with Josh, day-long movie marathons, full weekends dedicated to perfecting games. All flipped on its head with one stupid prank last winter.

“Yeah. I know.” Sam says, “That’s why I think you might not like my idea.”

Chris furrows his brow, meeting Sam’s eyes. The sympathy is still there, but mixed with determination. She walks across the workshop, and Chris follows after her.

In one of the bins sits something Chris was really hoping to never see again. Large canisters of gas, with masks to cover the mouth and nose. But Sam reaches past them, to a container that looks similar to a small, clear plastic first aid case. She pops the closures easily, opening it up for Chris to see.

Several syringes, filled with clear, slightly viscous liquid lay unused. Chris wrinkles his nose at the sight. Josh certainly wasn’t one to be squeamish around needles, so Chris wondered what made his friend change his mind. He was glad he did though, because the only thing that could’ve made that night worse is getting jabbed in the neck with one of those.

Chris looks up, eyes wide, at Sam’s stony expression. Did she really think that would work if worst came to worst? Would she even want to?

“C’mon Chris, we have limited daylight so we can’t putz around,” she insists, “so I need to know if you’re okay with this.”

Chris sighs, weighing the options in his mind. “Yeah,” he eventually relents. “Yeah, anything to get Josh back.”

Sam smiles tightly before setting the case down. “Good egg,” she says, taking two of the syringes in one hand and two in the other. “Better to be safe than sorry,” she says as she places two in the outermost pocket of Chris’s pack before doing the same on her own. “Just… be ginger, okay? I don’t want these getting busted.”

Chris shoots her a thumbs up, trying to look confident. “No worries, Sam. Everything’s kosher.”

Sam scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You don’t even know what that word means.”

“Uh, I totally do!” Chris says, looking incredulous. “It means like, good, fine, totally cool and definitely not gonna break anything.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Sam side-eyes him and smirks. “C’mon, nerd, we have a friend to rescue.”

Tension successfully broken, they share some light-hearted chatter as they follow the tunnel down to the sanatorium.

When they can’t push the door open past the debris, the mood is broken.

“Shit,” Chris says, stepping back. “Mike really blew this place to hell, huh?”

Sam sighed. “Yeah. I almost forgot about that with everything else going on.”

“What now?” Chris asks.

“We backtrack. Get aboveground again and try to find a new way down,” Sam says.

“Great.”

The walk back seems infinitely longer, the rotting and peeling walls stretching forever. Every creaking floorboard makes them twitch anxiously. They pass through the workshop in a hurry, unwilling to linger.

When they make it to the basement, Sam manages to open the small window at the far end, by where Ashley had seen the “ghost”. They pull themselves up and squirm out, in favor of picking their way through the water-damaged lower level of the lodge.

They lift themselves to their feet and brush the snow off themselves, taking a look around. Here, along the side of the house where the trees pressed closer, the snow has melted and been replaced by charred remnants of wood, their sources indistinguishable.

Sam shoots a glance at the sky, frowning. Already the sun is almost at it’s peak. “What do you say we just hike to the guest cabin and decide on a plan of action from there?”

Chris nods. “I guess it’s our best option at this point.”

Parts of the trek are hard under their packs, but the crisp wind coming off the mountain keeps them from sweating. They compare shared experiences of that night, of Mike’s reaction to Josh’s final prank, what happened in the living room, and down in the basement.

“Maybe Mike shouldn’t have come,” Chris hisses out through labored breaths as they climb a set of stairs.

Sam spares him a glance but doesn’t interject, waiting for him to elaborate.

“See, like-” Chris says, “Mike almost didn’t come in the first place anyway. Because of last year.”

Sam winces, but keeps looking straight ahead.

“And Jess ended up convincing him, who knows why.” She had been an integral part of the prank too if everyone else’s recollections are true. “If it weren’t for him Josh wouldn’t have ended up out in the barn. The flamethrower dude might not have died. Jess might’ve been able to just hang out somewhere else in the house...” He sighs. “I dunno. I guess it’s easy to blame someone else, but _fuck_ Sam.”

She sighs. “I know, Chris. I know. Luckily because of Mike, we know how to get to the mines from the cabin though.”

“We wouldn’t have to know if it weren’t for him,” Chris grumbles.

Sam shoots him a look from the corner of her eye, but doesn’t say anything. They finish the hike in silence, the only sounds their heavy breathing and the rasp of fabric.

The cabin could’ve looked worse, Chris thinks. It could look like the lodge. As it is, the window in the front door is shattered, along with the one in the bathroom. There are some signs of animals inhabiting the cabin, but when a thorough search comes up empty, Sam declares it safe and they get to work barricading the windows. Sam cuts the shower curtain into strips with a small utility knife and duct tapes the plastic over the gaping holes.

“There,” she said, stepping back to observe her work on the front door. “It won’t keep out a wendigo, but it should fend off the more determined squirrels.”

“Fine with me,” Chris says as he flops down on the couch. “So, what do we know?”

Sam sits on the hearth across from him, back to the slowly growing fire. “We know Jess got dragged into the mines down that way,” Sam gestures vaguely in the direction of the front door, “but we don’t know where that is in relation to where we saw Josh last.”

“Great.” Chris sighs, rubbing his hands over his face.

“The only clue we have at this point is that the tunnel Mike followed the flamethrower guy through took him to the front of the sanatorium.”

“Which is destroyed,” Chris reminds her, raising a brow.

“Hush. The entrance I ran into Mike at was near the back of the sanatorium, and then we found Josh from there.”

Chris sits up a little straighter. “So if we find a way around the sanatorium- because I don’t think going through it is an option- we might find the right way?”

Sam nods. “But those mines are a labyrinth. There’s no telling how long it would take us to find the right path.”

“You don’t remember?” Chris asks, incredulous.

“I wasn’t exactly making a map of the place, Chris. I just wanted to find my friend.”

“Right, sorry.” They sit quietly for a moment, thinking. “Okay, how about this-” Chris starts. “We still have some daylight left, so why don’t we hike up to the sanatorium and see if we can find a way around, then figure out the mines tomorrow."

Sam nods, resting her head in her hand. “Yeah. We need all the time we can get for that, I think.”

“I hate to think we’re wasting another day but-” Chris bites his tongue. He won’t say he’s worried it will be their last if they rush this.

Sam hums an agreement. “I know. I don’t like it either, but we have to be careful.”

They head out under the slowly sinking sun, following a winding trail that ends at a fairly deep crevasse. Under the thick tree cover, they can still just barely see a deep rut in the snow, evidence of someone being bodily dragged through here. Sam and Chris give each other an apprehensive look before crossing the downed log and making their way around.

The walk is quiet until they reach another fissure. “Okay, seriously?” Chris asks, disgruntled. “Is there a fault line here or something?”

Sam laughs, stepping over to one edge. “Come on, you big baby.” She shimmies across, chest to the cliff wall.

“Seriously? Are you trying to kill me?” Chris grumps.

“Aw, are you scared?” Sam asks in a voice usually reserved for cute babies and especially tiny puppies as she holds a hand out.

Chris huffs and follows her lead, letting his bulky pack stick out behind him as he shuffles towards her.

There's some very fake, overzealous revelry as he makes it safely to the other side, but when Chris bats away her attempt at a pat on the back, Sam just laughs good-naturedly and they continue on.

The next portion of their jaunt takes slightly longer, their path encumbered with fallen trees that they struggle to climb over and slip under with their packs. When they reach a steep slope leading down to some old mining buildings, Chris just glares down pensively.

“Tapping out?” Sam asks with a smirk.

“No,” Chris says, making a face. “Just imagining Mike trying to Nathan Drake his way through all this shit.”

Sam laughs. “Does that give you a newfound appreciation for ol’ Mikey?” she asks sarcastically. 

Chris scoffs. “Makes me wish I had Nathan Drake as a friend instead.”

Sam gives him a punch in the arm before gesturing to the side. “I think that walkway will take us down.”

Chris nods and they follow it through one of the buildings to the ground level, surveying the slowly decaying buildings around them.

“Any clue as to where we head next?” Chris wonders.

Sam pulls out her phone, scanning an old conversation. “I think...” she points toward the back of the settlement, squinting in the sun. “Past this biggest building, the one with the conveyor belt.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Chris says.

Mike’s directions lead them to a building with a staircase going further down into the earth, a sign indicating an elevator below. With a nod from Sam, they descend into the chill of the mines. They reach the shaft, climbing fallen platforms and rickety steps that wrap around.

“Okay,” Sam says, rubbing her hands together. “This is the part I don’t think you’ll like.”

“I don’t like any of this, are you kidding!?” he bursts out.

Sam sighs. “Well, this is a part you’ll really hate then.” The platform they’ve reached is broken, presumably by fallen debris when it was sabotaged. Sam gives her backpack’s straps a tug, tightening them minutely before launching herself across the gap to the other side.

Chris gapes at her, disbelieving. “Uh-uh. No way. There’s no way in hell-”

“Chris, come on,” Sam says, exasperated. “It’s like, four feet, you could step across if you really tried.”

When Chris continues to balk, Sam sighs and holds a hand out. “Here. Toss me your bag.”

He gives her a quizzical look but doesn’t argue, unclipping the strap across his chest and slipping it from his shoulders before throwing it into Sam’s arms.

“There,” she said, turning to set it against the railing. “That should make it a little easier.”

Chris groans. “You’re not gonna let this drop are you?”

Sam gives him a smirk, holding out a hand again. He paces for a second, shuffles to the edge, testing where the support gives out, and steps as far back as he can before leaping across, heart in his throat.

He hits heavily, a loud clang echoing through the empty mines. Not nearly as graceful as Sam’s landing, but he keeps his balance and quickly rushes to the railing, gripping it tight. “Fuck.”

Sam slaps him on the back. “Good effort, champ. Told you it was no big deal.”

“I think I just lost several years off my life,” Chris laments as he lifts his backpack.

“Well, I’m sorry to say it’s not over just yet.”

Sam sounds anything but sorry, so Chris turns slowly to where she’s standing. Here the elevator shaft is a combination of the wire fencing, metal plates, and metal beams.

“No. Fuck no,” Chris says.

“Listen, on the way back we can try to find another way, but for now-”

“Seriously, Sammy,” Chris whines, looking up at the imposing structure. “There’s no way in hell I can do this.”

Sam’s expression darkens. “Do you want to save Josh or not?” she asks, voice deceptively soft.

“What!?” Chris yelps. “Of course I do! Why would-”

“I’m not doing this because I want to mess with you Chris!” Sam cries, exasperated. “This is still life or death!”

Chris sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. Sam is right. Just because there isn’t a cannibal monster nipping at their heels this time around doesn’t mean this isn’t serious.

“Okay,” he grumbles between his fingers. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

Sam gives him a sad smile. “Atta boy.” she wraps her fingers around the fencing, hauling herself up. “Just follow my lead, alright?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not if you wanna make it to the top!” she says, voice ringing through the cavern as she starts to climb.

Chris follows her slowly, relying on the occasional shouted direction, along with meticulously wiggling pieces of metal before placing his weight on them. But Sam never steers them wrong, and they make it up without incident.

She stops, wiggles out of her pack, and flings it behind her. Chris glances up and sees it land on a jutting piece of metal. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. Sam twists, one hand hanging on as she re-orients herself, heels balancing on a small beam before leaping up, landing on her stomach with a quiet “oof”.

She straightens up and turns, smiling down at him. “Alright, now you!”

“Ha ha.” Chris says, humorlessly. He clambers the final few feet to where Sam jumped off from before turning his head to look at her again.

Sam taps her chin, then turns to her pack. “Okay, I have another idea.” She tosses down a length of paracord, holding on to the opposite end. “Tie this around one of your straps."

Chris maneuvers the cord through a shoulder strap, managing a simple knot with one hand still gripping the elevator shaft with white knuckles.

“Alright, now get your arms out of it.”

Chris wiggles one arm out so the bag dangles off one shoulder. He glances up, meeting Sam’s eyes. “Ready?”

She nods, and shifts to brace herself. He removes the second arm, letting the bag drop off him. Sam jolts forward as the cord pulls taut, and for a second Chris thinks she’ll topple headfirst back down the shaft. But her feet dig in, and she pulls, and the pack slowly ascends.

Sam reels it in and jerks her head. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Chris heaves a breath, trying to turn the way Sam did. He braces himself, and pushes with all the force he can manage.

His chest slams into the edge, knocking the breath out of him. His feet flail uselessly, trying to find some purchase as his hands slip on the metal. Sam’s hands wrap around his wrists, and she hauls him up until he’s mostly on, his feet still barely dangling.

“Shit,” he wheezes, pressing a hand to his chest. “Th-thanks, Sam.”

She looks at him, concerned. “You okay?”

He stands, feeling his lungs slowly starting to work again. “Yeah… yeah. Just- no more of that, okay?”

Sam smiles, handing him his bag. “I promise.”

They follow the mine to a heavy shut door and turn down a smaller path. It lets out in the same area, and up on the hill stands the sanatorium.

“The front doesn’t look too bad,” Chris comments.

“Just wait till you see the back.” Sam tells him with a chuckle.

The hike up takes a while, the snow piled as high as their waists in some areas. The sun is almost sinking out of view when they step into the grounds. They follow the outer wall around, staying quiet and keeping their eyes and ears open for any sign of a stray wendigo.

They make it around without incident, and Chris’ jaw drops at what he sees. This side of the building looks almost identical to the lodge. Half-destroyed from the initial explosion, half burnt and crumbling to dust.

“Mike really did a number on this place, huh?”

Sam hums and pushes the back gate open, letting them out onto another forest trail. This one is much clearer thanks to the tree cover, but several paths intersect leaving them to wander for a few minutes before coming to the door into the mines.

But when Sam attempts to open the door, all she gets is a loud ‘clunk’ sound. She curses, kicking the door half-heartedly.

“What, what’s wrong?” Chris asks.

“Mike barricaded the door with his fucking gun,” Sam scowls.

Chris raises a brow, unimpressed. “Really? He left his gun behind to… what? Keep a monster capable of ripping someone’s head off from opening it?”

“Look, I didn’t tell him to do it,” Sam says.

“So what do you think we should do?” Chris asks.

Sam gives the door a long look before stepping back, planting one foot, and kicking the door _hard_ right where the handle meets the jamb.

She stumbles a bit when it doesn’t give, huffing. “That,” she says simply.

Chris winces. “Don’t you think making a lot of noise would be unwise at this point?”

Sam looks at him and says, “I’d rather know now than tomorrow,” before giving the door another hard kick. There’s a bang and screeching of metal, but no progress is made.

Chris sighs, and resigns himself to keeping watch. After a few more kicks, Sam steps back and rests her hands on her knees, taking a breather. “You know what’s bad about doors like this?” she asks.

“They’re solid metal?” Chris asks.

Sam ignores him. “They don’t have a latch. Normally when you break a door down, you don’t break the latch, or the locking mechanism,” she explains. “You just end up tearing it out of the door jamb. The screws only tend to be like a fourth of an inch. Totally easy to rip from the wood.”

Chris gapes at her. “And how do you know this?”

Another hard kick, out of nowhere, this time accompanied by a frustrated yell. “My mom dated a firefighter,” she explains with a cheeky grin. “She was nice. Kind of intense. Liked her job a little too much, I think. Gave me a lot of tips.”

A kick, a bang, and a shriek. “I’m guessing breaking a gun is harder than breaking a wooden door jamb?” Chris asks.

“Much.” Sam says. “You wanna give it a shot?”

Chris sighs. “Just don’t laugh if I fall on my ass.”

“No promises,” Sam tells him with a smirk. She steps back, letting him take her spot. He adopts her stance and gives a test kick, his heel barely making contact. He tosses a glance over his shoulder at Sam, who just smiles and gestures to the door. He gives another kick, feeling the door barely shift.

He huffs, readjusts his position, and lashes out again. After a few minutes of this he’s broken a sweat, and moves back to regain his breath. “Fuck this,” he says, gasping. “Is there another way in?”

Sam shakes her head. “Not that we know of. And not that would let out into the same part of the mines.”

She gently moves him out of the way to take over, and Chris flops down to sit in the snow. “Tired?” Sam asks with a laugh.

“It’s been a long day, Sammy.”

“Yeah,” she agrees with a sigh. “And it’s almost over too. Give me a few more minutes of this, and then we can head back, okay?”

Chris waves his hand, still trying to gather himself.

A few kicks in, the usual cacophony gives way to something new. Sam beams, looking proud of herself.

“What’s that noise?” Chris asks, feeling like he knows.

“Wood breaking,” Sam says simply. “I guess the grip is breaking off the barrel.”

“Thank God for this guy liking his old-fashioned guns,” Chris says.

It only takes two more solid hits for them to hear a shattering sound, and the door to fling open. Sam places her hands on her hips, half out of pride and half out of exertion. “I fucking did it. Take that.”

“Alright, is that the last thing on our list for today then?”

Sam nods, taking a few steps back. “As much as I’d love to get some spelunking out of the way, I’d really rather get back to the cabin before the sun is all the way down. Just to be safe.”

Chris murmurs an agreement as he stands, and they head back the way they came. Their half-dug trails make it slightly easier on them on the return trip, but they lose the extra time finding a way through the woods over the mineshaft back to the trail leading to the cabin.

Dusk is settling over the forest when the cabin peeks out from between the dense trees, and the darkness almost feels peaceful even as a wolf howls in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all gonna kick off next chapter!! Stay tuned


	4. Chapter 4

After deciding that sharing a bed was less than ideal, Sam sleeps on the couch, and Chris drags all of the blankets and sheets off the bed to drag them into the living room. The floor is almost bearable with the duvet folded up four times under him. Neither of them get much sleep, between the anxiety of the day to come and the lack of comfort in their sleeping arrangements. 

In the end they rise with the sun, eating a quick breakfast of dehydrated meals and instant coffee before they double-check their packs, ensuring they haven’t left anything in the cabin. A quick shared glance, and they’re out the door into the chill of the morning.

The hike to the entrance of the mines still takes about half an hour, even with their prep. Chris realizes Josh was right about the mountain feeling like it’s always getting bigger. They stop again at the door, but neither of them say anything before they enter.

The mines are just like he remembers. Dark, damp, and full of terrible things. The place feels haunted, and he supposes it is now more than ever, with all of the spirits loose. 

“So, what are we looking for?” Chris asks, voice barely above a murmur.

“A lake,” Sam says simply, pointing her flashlight ahead. “With a waterwheel. If Josh is here, he should still be just past it. If not, this is going to be a lot harder for us.”

Chris nods and follows her lead, hoping they don’t get lost in the mess of tunnels. 

 

It’s a long trek through the quiet of the tunnels before Sam starts to look hopeful. “If there’s a ledge here, we should be in the right place,” she says.

“I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not,” Chris mutters, stomach churning nervously. Sam throws a glance over her shoulder with a crooked smile, but doesn’t say anything.

They reach the ledge, and Sam drops down. It’s only about four feet, but Chris still opts to sit on the edge before slithering to his feet. He’s not going to risk another turned ankle at this point. 

He expects the tunnels to continue stretching on, but by the time they round the next corner, they’re practically standing at the edge of the water. They share a look and Sam jerks her head, moving to a gap in the fencing. 

“What’s around this way?” Chris asks, starting towards a path that wraps around the water.

“That’s where Beth is,” Sam whispers, sitting on the rock.

Chris stops, suddenly feeling as if he’s trying to wade through molasses. He thinks of the youngest Washington, always keeping up with him and Josh, seemingly always up to no good, but never getting in trouble. He can’t imagine-

“We’re not going to be able to bring them back, are we?” he asks hoarsely.

Sam turns to face him, tears brimming her eyes. She purses her lips and shakes her head minutely. Their graves in LA are going to stay empty, headstones marking a resting place that isn't theirs.

Chris hisses a “fuck” under his breath and sits on the edge next to Sam. She hesitates, hands clenching and unclenching as she blinks tears away.

Chris tries to clear his throat and fails. “Maybe-” he starts, voice thick, “maybe someday we can come back. When Josh is better. He won’t want to leave them either.”

Sam chokes out a sob, tears finally spilling. “I really loved her, Chris. That night, I didn’t think- I didn’t think it would be the last...”

Chris throws an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. She grinds the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Dammit. I thought I was done. I thought it was okay.”

“Something like this is never going to be okay,” Chris says, looking out over the dark water. “I know that much.”

Sam nods, sniffles, and sits upright again. “We have to get Josh. I’m not letting this happen again.”

They slip into the water, pretending it isn’t the most frigid thing either of them have ever felt. They hurry to the opposite side, lifting themselves out again. 

Sam stops, listening. The door in front of them is wide open, beckoning them further. Sam presses a finger to her lips before advancing. Chris follows after her, trying to make his steps as light as possible.

They’re barely into the short hall before they hear a ragged snarl. Sam turns, expression horrified. Chris swallows, and slowly steps past her. She tries to grab his elbow, but he pulls away, taking out his own flashlight.

He doesn’t know what to expect. He doesn’t let himself think about what he might find around that corner. He just moves, hoping his heartbeat isn’t as loud as it feels.

There’s a shape crouched in the middle of the room, gnawing on something. A leg, maybe. But what’s more important is that it doesn’t look like a wendigo. No bald head, bony limbs, or elongated torso. Chris moves his flashlight over the figure at the same time Sam steps through the doorway.

She gasps as it turns, revealing Josh. Or what’s left of him. One side of his face is a jagged gash, full of needle sharp teeth. One eye looks almost normal, but the other reflects silver in the light. Even as he stands his posture is hunched, arms hanging limp. His hands end in wicked claws, long and black.

He just stands, head angling from one side to another. Maybe trying to decide where the light is coming from, or why. 

“Josh?” Chris whispers, taking half a step forward. The head whips toward him, what’s left of Josh’s lips curling back. 

Sam looks horrified, gaping at Chris. _What are you doing!?_ she mouths at him. He just shakes his head, turning back to Josh.

Another step forward. “C’mon man, it’s me. Let’s just get out of here, okay-” he holds a hand out, and Josh screeches. But it’s too late to freeze now, because he’s lurching towards Chris, hands outstretched.

Chris wheels backwards, his heel catching on something jutting up from the floor. He tumbles onto his back, out of reach of those horrible talons. Josh stops, looming over him. Chris doesn’t move, imagining this is when his life ought to flash before his eyes. So much of it would revolve around the person who might be about to end it for him.

Josh slowly lowers himself, a growl rumbling low in his chest. He leans closer, eyes flicking back and forth blindly. He’s about a foot from Chris’ face when his mouth opens, maw full of sharp teeth and decaying flesh, every muscle in his body coiling as he readies to pounce-

“Hey!” Sam shouts, leaping on his back. Josh shrieks, limbs flailing. Sam holds tight, one arm pulling back before slamming into his neck. Chris watches her shove the plunger of one of the pilfered syringes down, grip falling as Josh continues to struggle. 

He twists with another horrible scream, finally dislodging Sam. She lands on her feet and stumbles, watching the scene in front of her. Josh whirls, trying to find his attacker, arms flying out wildly. 

A hand catches Sam in the face with a loud crack. She falls, head bouncing off the ground. She’d abandoned her pack at some point in all of this, and lays completely still flat on her back as Josh finally succumbs, seeming to melt into a pile on the ground.

Chris scrambles up, rushing to Sam’s side. “Shit, shit, shit,” he breathes. “Sam!? Sammy, are you okay?”

Josh must’ve just started to develop that armored skin the old guy warned him about. Chris thinks he could’ve swung a bat in someone’s face and gotten a similar result. There’s a ragged split over Sam’s cheekbone, and her eye is already starting to swell. But she’s breathing, and her good eye starts to open.

She groans, shifting in place. “Fuck.”

Chris holds up his flashlight, moving a finger around in the light. “Hey, Sam hey. Can you follow my finger?”

Her eyes just flit around uselessly, and her brows furrow in confusion. “What happened? Chris, where are we?”

“Shit,” Chris says again, dropping the light to help Sam sit up. “We’re getting Josh, remember? I think you have a concussion.”

Sam groans again, taking a minute to process. “Are you okay?” she asks.

Chris gives a strained laugh. “Am I okay? Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

Sam looks over at the lump that is Josh, taking everything in. “We- we have to get him out of here,” she insists, attempting to stand.

Chris pushes her back on her butt. “No, you have to sit. Drink some water, take an anti-inflammatory. I’ll sort him out and then we can get out of here, okay?”

“Sure, mom,” Sam grumbles, dragging herself back towards her bag. “When did you become the protective one?” she asks.

“When you got knocked on your ass by our half-monster best friend,” Chris informs her. He fishes the pack of plastic zip ties out of his bag, moving towards Josh. He’s grateful to see Sam seems to be taking his advice, taking tentative sips of her water. 

He works in silence, deciding tripling up on ties isn’t excessive, just safe. He moves back to his bag, and Sam meets his gaze with a sad look.

“You have to tell him,” she whispers. “If- if everything works out… you have to, Chris.”

He swallows the lump in his throat. “What? That we blew up the lodge? That we couldn’t get his sisters?” he asks, trying to play dumb.

Sam’s expression doesn’t change. “You know what I mean. You can't let any more time go to waste.”

He turns away, putting the ties back and pulling out the blindfold. He walks back over to Josh, kneeling next to him. He looks even worse unconscious; his skin has a sick grey pallor, his face looks gaunt. One of his eyes is an irritated mess. The eyelid looks tattered and infected, like Josh had started scratching at it and didn’t stop even after his nails grew. 

Chris swallows again and ties the blindfold as quickly as possible. He hears a rattle behind him, followed by a sputtering gulp.

“Don’t rush it if you’re feeling nauseous,” he says, swiveling to look at Sam. “It won’t do any good if it comes back up.”

“What do you know about concussions?” Sam asks, looking curious.

Chris turns away from her again. “My mom was a nurse,” he says quietly.

There’s a heavy pause. “I’m sorry,” Sam murmurs.

“You’re right,” Chris says as he stands, suddenly much louder. “We have to get Josh out of here.”

Sam peers at him, but nods, saying nothing. She stows everything back in her bag and stands, albeit a little shakily, before hoisting it up onto her back. 

They stand for a moment, taking the scene in around them. The room is worse off than before, littered with the remains of the missing search crew. Both Sam and Chris are smeared in blood from Josh’s filthy overalls, Sam is peering through one eye as blood seeps from her cheek, and Josh lies between them, bound at the hands and feet, unconscious. 

“How are we going to do this?” Chris asks. “Do you think you’ll be able to-”

Sam waves a hand. “I’m concussed, not paralyzed. Yes, I can help lift Josh.”

Chris nods, moving to grab Josh’s shoulders. Sam gets his feet, and together they move him out to the edge of the lake. They both slip in before lifting him once more, straining to keep him above the water. Monster or not, hypothermia would do him no good at this point. 

They heft him up on the opposite side, climb out around him, and continue their slow, arduous journey. They walk astride when they can, Chris walking backwards while Sam guides him when they can’t. 

Chris’ arms are shaking by the time they make it out the door back into the open wilderness, but he ignores it and continues walking as fast as they can with the full weight of another person strung between them. 

They finally stop when they reach the cabin, Chris practically collapsing on the steps. Sam settles next to him, wiping sweat from her brow. “I didn’t think about this part,” she admits.

Chris can’t help it, he lets out a burst of laughter. “Seriously?” he asks.

Sam smirks. “Honestly I thought we’d be in pieces by now.”

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the sun barely begin to graze the tops of the trees. He wondered if they should still be worried about the dying light or not. 

Sam shifts, pulling the second syringe from her bag. She shares a look with Chris. “What do you think?”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I dunno, Sam. If whatever’s in that is anything like what Josh has in those canisters, it doesn't last very long.” He looks over his shoulder at the unconscious form behind them. “But if we got this far just to overdose him...”

Sam raises a brow. “I doubt it’s that strong,” she says. “Better safe than sorry.” She stands and walks to kneel beside Josh. After a moment of calculating, she lifts her arm, the needle clenched in her fist. Then it falls. “I can’t.”

Chris gives her a puzzled look. “What do you mean? I thought you were the one trying to convince me.”

“No-” she laughs tiredly. “I mean I literally can’t. And I don’t want to wreck the needle trying. The adrenaline and the fall took a lot out of me.”

Chris gulps. “Sam, I don’t-”

“Do you really want him waking up on us now?” She holds the syringe out to him.

Chris sighs and moves to kneel next to her. He takes it, rolling it between his fingers thoughtfully. “Is it really all that?” he asks, miming a stabbing motion.

Sam crinkles her nose. “It’s like trying to jab a needle through drywall,” she says, matter-of-factly. 

“Christ,” Chris mutters. “And you really think I can do it when you can’t?”

Sam pats him on the shoulder. “I believe in you, bud.” She stands again, stepping over Josh to plant herself back on the steps.

Chris takes a deep breath, taking a moment to prepare before mimicking Sam’s move in the mine. She was right, he met way more resistance than he expected. A hit he thought would go straight through barely wedged the needle under Josh’s skin. He depresses the plunger, hoping whatever Josh put in this particular cocktail isn’t a large dose. 

He drops the syringe, practically scrambling to reseat himself next to Sam. It’s horrible, seeing his best friend this way. He just wants this to be over.

By the time Sam stands, they’ve both nearly drained their water bottles, Chris taking a preemptive painkiller before they head off again. They lift Josh, and set off back towards the destroyed lodge. The staircases prove difficult, Chris straining under a majority of Josh’s weight as Sam tries her damnedest to keep him from tumbling down. 

Going back through the short stretch of the mines is much harder, especially with the dead weight that is Josh slung between them. They manage to get him up, Sam climbing after and helping Chris haul himself over as well. 

_This is the home stretch now,_ Chris thinks. _Nothing between us and the truck. Then off this god forsaken mountain._

They march past the remains of the lodge in silence, eager to get off the mountain and to a hospital as soon as possible. They're both wheezing at this point, Sam trying to take as much weight as possible while Chris struggles to walk in a straight line. 

When they reach the cable car, the sun has nearly set behind the mountains. The ride down is tense, both Chris and Sam throwing furtive glances at the unconscious body in the seat across from them. 

“What do you think?” Chris asks.

“I think we made it this far. He made it this far. That says a lot,” Sam responds.

Chris just nods, never taking his eyes off Josh.

They very nearly break into a run as they leave the cable car station. Chris drops the tailgate, and they lay Josh on it for a moment while Sam spreads the silver shock blanket over the bed. “It won’t make it any more comfortable, but it should be a little warmer,” she explains.

They maneuver him into the bed and shut the tail. Chris stands on one of the rear wheels to string the bungee cords across the top of the bed. “I just don’t want him flying out if we hit a bump!” Chris says when Sam snorts at him. 

Simultaneously, they half-leap into the truck, Chris cranking the key immediately, listening to the engine sputter and choke before finally catching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was a little short! It was starting to ramble so I cut it a little sooner than originally planned. Also I promise I hate the tragic lesbians trope as much as anyone else, I just can't have an until dawn fic without some sath, even if it means a grieving Sam.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is late! This chapter was kicking my butt, but your nice comments inspired me to just sit down and plow through. Thank you all for all the kudos, bookmarks, and of course comments!

Chris tears down the mountain, every minute that passes feeling like an eternity. A mantra goes through his head of hoping they aren't too late, hoping Josh will be okay, hoping he’ll stay unconscious through the trip to the hospital. Not too late, be okay, stay knocked out.

There's no conversation as they roar down the mountain. Not that any could be had over the growl of the engine as Chris desperately pushes it as fast as it can manage in fourth gear. Sam glances into the back constantly, one hand braced against the seat and the other against the dashboard, as if awaiting some great impact.

He doesn't blame her. It feels too lucky that they've done this well thus far. Like some great equalizer is about to come down and flick them off the treacherous pass for good measure.

Instead of parking and explaining to the front desk what’s happening, Chris pulls them around to where ambulances are met. When he hops out, there’s an EMT leaning against one of the vehicles smoking, seeming unbothered by the irony of it.

When Sam shuts her door he looks up and frowns. “Hey, you kids aren’t supposed to be back here. If it’s an emergency you can go to urgent care, they’ll-”

“Please,” Chris begs as Sam drops the tailgate, reaching in, “our friend really needs help, there’s no time to explain or-”

The EMT drops his cigarette with a sigh, passing Chris to stand by Sam. “If it’s that bad, you should’ve called an ambulance.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the one he had been leaning against. “I can tell you’re American, but that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to use our-” he stops dead when he sees Josh, all of the color draining from his face.

He looks at Sam, and then Chris. “How many?” he whispers.

The two look at each other, baffled. “He’s the last one,” Sam explains. “The rest were killed in the fire on Mount Washington.”

“You’re kidding.”

Chris shakes his head. “Can you help him?”

The EMT does a quick motion, as if he’s crossing himself. “Get him inside.”

They do as they’re asked, lifting Josh one final time and following after the other man. Whatever path he's taking, it says blessedly empty as they hurry to keep up with him through the maze of halls and doors.

The room they come to is a fairly normal hospital room, the only outstanding features being the incredibly thick, heavy door, and the bindings on the bed. They lay Josh on his side, and the EMT quickly releases the ties, rolling him onto his back and maneuvering his wrists and ankles into the cuffs, putting a final strap across his chest.

He stands back, observing the scene for a moment before rubbing a hand across his mouth. “Okay,” he says. “You two come sit outside, I’ll find a doctor. I have one in mind.”

Sam nods, and they allow themselves to be ushered out.

“My name’s Lewis, if anyone asks why you’re here.” Then he takes off down the hall at a jog.

Chris slumps back, throwing an arm over his face. “Why am I more nervous now than I was on that damn mountain?”

Sam lets out a strained chuckle as she wiggles out of her jacket. “Moment of truth,” she says simply.

There’s a few tense minutes of silence as they wait. There are no typical hospital sounds down here. No beeping heart monitors, coughing patients, chattering nurses and doctors. Sam and Chris share a nervous glance, both wondering what this wing is for.

Lewis returns, trailing a doctor behind him. She’s an older indigenous woman with dark hair piled atop her head in a braided bun, with grey streaking from her temples. She’s shorter than the EMT, even in the short heels that signal her arrival in the silent corridor, but she has a powerful presence.

She stops in front of them, but Lewis keeps walking, giving them a wave as he disappears further in the hospital.

She looks between them and then sighs, flipping a paper on her clipboard. “Tell me everything.”

Chris and Sam take turns retelling the whole story. The original prank, the missing twins. Josh’s history with mental illness, his withdrawals, the revenge prank. What happened to Jess, how Mike reacted, Josh going missing. Finding Hannah’s diary, blowing up the sanatorium, burning down the lodge.

The doctor hums, making notes every now and then. “And how long was your friend up there?”

Chris and Sam glance at each other. “About… nine days?” Sam says.

The doctor raises a brow. “And you said the documents you found previously recorded these changes after more than twenty days?”

“For a full transformation,” Sam clarifies. “That's why we’re still hopeful.”

“Sometimes hope is all you can have,” the doctor replies, not terribly helpfully. She clicks her pen and tucks it in a pocket. “Okay, I’m going to treat him like any other patient that needs to be kept under. I’ll confer with some colleagues and we can decide where to go from there.”

Chris and Sam just nod, unsure of what input they could possibly have at this point. The doctor narrows her eyes at Sam, as if seeing her for the first time. “I’m going to page a nurse to check you two out. Stay put.” Then she steps past them and into the room, seemingly unfazed by what lies beyond the door.

The nurse who arrives is a younger woman with the air of someone who’s seen it all. She gives Chris a quick check, rattling off a few cursory questions before moving over to Sam.

“How are you guys so okay with this?” Chris blurts out as the nurse takes out a penlight, moving it back and forth in front of Sam’s eyes. “I mean, if we’d known people would be so unfazed we wouldn't have caused so much trouble.”

The nurse shakes her head, replacing the light and pulling out a sealed pack of gauze and a small container of alcohol. “Not everyone. Doctor Nadie and I have a little experience,” she explains as she carefully wipes the blood off Sam’s face.

Chris’ jaw drops. “What do you mean?”

She drops the bloodied wipes in a biohazard bag before removing her gloves and tossing them in as well. “A man who lived up on that mountain came down with a terrible laceration on his face. Said he only came down for stitches, and intended to leave at daybreak.” She says this all with the tone of someone chatting about the weather. “Took some prying, but he finally told us what happened when Doctor Nadie came in. A horrible story, like something out of a movie.” She gently prods Sam’s face, probably checking for broken bones.

Sam winces, but peers at Chris with her good eye. “And you… believed him?” Sam asks.

The nurse sighs. “Well I don’t know what else could’ve torn up his face like that. A bear, maybe, but once a grizzly gets that close…” she shrugs. “Besides, it’s a tale I’ve heard before. Cursed creatures born from starvation in the depths of winter. But I never would’ve guessed it was real. Just a myth to enforce a taboo.” She straightens up, holding a hand out. “You’re going to need some stitches, missy. Let’s sit you somewhere more comfortable.”

Sam takes the hand, standing on unsteady legs before allowing herself to be led away. She turns to wave at Chris and point a stern finger, clearly meaning “stay here”.

Chris gives her a two-fingered salute, and settles further back in his seat. He fishes around in a pocket, deciding now is as good a time as any to look through texts and decide what ought to be replied to sooner rather than later.

Nothing from Matt, which isn’t terribly surprising. They were never terribly chatty, the two of them. Only one from Jess.

 **[11:05]** Be safe :(

Next lowest is Mike, with two.

 **[11:35]** sorrry i kno i shouldve stuck behind to help but jess rly needs me rn

 **[11:40]** i kno that’s a dick move but idk what u expect to find

Chris snorts humorlessly. Leave it to Mike. Maybe Chris shouldn’t be cruel, but if Mike couldn’t be asked to leave Jess behind to help, Chris shouldn’t be expected to traipse off the mountain without a word in Josh’s regard. He swallows when he realized he just compared himself and Josh to an actual, official couple, and scrolls on. Next is Emily.

 **[10:30]** Dumbass.

 _Short and sweet_ , Chris thinks.

 **[10:32]** I mean I get it. But that doesn’t mean it’s not dumb.

 **[10:33]** I would do it for Matt or Jess. Maybe Mike. Undecided.

Chris chuckles at that.

 **[10:42]** Anyway. Come back safe or whatever. This group has taken enough hits. See you soon.

Next Ashley. Chris hovers over her messages before tapping them resolutely, resigning himself to whatever lashing he’s about to be delivered.

His jaw drops as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls past a massive wall of text. He reaches the bottom, amazed and nervous. He could never send a text like that without losing his nerve halfway through. But just after it, he sees a shorter one.

 **[12:10]** fuck i’m sorry that’s so mean please don’t even read that just delete it idk what’s wrong with me

He blinks, almost curious enough to go back and read it, but he listens and deletes it, double-tapping before sending it to the trash. He supposes he doesn’t want to know. Instead, he reads what comes next.

 **[12:20]** i almost didn’t open the door, you know? i just stood there for a second, wondering why you almost listened to me under those saws. but then i remembered they were blanks and it doesn’t matter bc you didn’t so i opened it.

 **[12:21]** okay srsly i need to shut up i’m sorry.

According to the timestamps, her next text came the day after.

 **[08:31]** i really hope you find him. i do. you’re one of my closest friends and i love you and i want you to be happy.

Chris swallows, feeling his heart in his throat. He’s just glad Ashley doesn’t hate him.

And then, one sent the day they went up the mountain.

 **[14:08]** please text me so i know you're alive

Chris pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to process everything. Then he types out a quick text to Ashley.

 **[18:39]** Josh is alive. Sam and I are okay. One of the search teams didn't make it out of the mines. Beth and Hannah are still up there.

He taps the send button, watching it slowly deliver. After a moment, he adds, “do you mind telling the rest of the group?”

He stares at the message for a second, considering what else to mention when the ‘read’ receipt pops, and Ashley responds almost instantly.

 **[18:41]** oh god. yeah, i can tell them. i’m so glad everyone's okay. give sam my best, she hasn't texted back yet either.

He sends the okay hand emoji and puts his phone back in his pocket, taking the first deep, steady breath in what feels like a long time.

And then he sleeps.

* * *

 

A hand nudges his shoulder, startling him awake. Sam is leaning over him, stitches in her cheek and an ice pack over her eye. She grins at him. “Sleeping on the job?”

Chris scrubs a hand over his eyes, sitting up. “They give you the good stuff?”

Sam very nearly melts into her chair, leaning on an elbow. “Yep,” she says, popping the ‘p’. “Still sucked though. Stitches aren’t fun.”

“Have you had to get them a lot?” Chris asks.

Sam laughs at that. “Please, Chris. I go rock climbing for fun. You think I wasn’t the kid splitting lips and skinning knees every other week?”

“Touche,” Chris says.

They sit in silence for awhile, Sam slowly slumping lower and lower. Chris bumps her knee with his, sending her jolting upright. She narrows her eyes at Chris, who just smiles pleasantly.

“Any news from the doctor yet?” she asks.

Chris bites his lip. “If there is, she didn’t wake me up for it.”

Sam leans against the wall. “Then I’m assuming no?”

“That’s probably safe.” Chris says.

Sam hums, glancing at the door. “I hope they can figure this out,” she says.

“Me too.”

As if on cue, the doctor steps out, shutting the door behind her quietly. She gives them a tired smile, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “We have him in a semi-conscious state,” she informs them. “We considered going with a medically induced coma, but he had some signs of hypothermia, and with the more physical trauma we decided keeping him awake would be better.”

When Chris and Sam give each other a surprised glance, her face becomes stern. “Now, that being said, we don’t want anything disturbing him. Too much stimulation risks setting him off, and until we know how this is affecting his metabolism, some adjustments may need to be made to his dosage. So no going in there without me or a nurse, okay?”

They both nod. “What comes next?” Chris asks.

Doctor Nadie sighs. “We wait. We see how he progresses. We want to track his reaction to simply being off the mountain and sedated before we attempt anything more rigorous. Right now I recommend you kids get something to eat, go back to wherever you’ve been staying.”

“No way!” Chris immediately protests. “We can’t just leave-”

“Chris,” Sam leans over, placing a hand on his arm. “We need to move your truck anyway. And I don’t think a good night’s sleep would kill us at this point. We can come back as early as you want.” She’s dropped the ice pack to her lap, brows furrowed. “Please?”

Chris sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”

Sam gives him a tight smile and turns to the doctor, nodding at her.

She smiles, giving them a wave. “Goodnight, kids.”

Sam stands, throwing her parka over her arm, pressing the ice pack back to her eye. “C’mon worrywart.”

Chris scoffs, following after her. “Can you blame me?”

She shakes her head. “Of course not, Chris. But at this point there’s not much we can do but wait. Making ourselves uncomfortable won’t help Josh.”

Chris follows her silently, making their way out to the emergency bay. Chris’ truck still sits there, probably saved from being towed by Lewis. They clamber in, and after a moment of hesitation Chris pulls away, watching the building recede in the rearview mirror.

The drive back to the hotel is quiet, Sam nearly dozing against the window. He rouses her as he parks, helping her out of the cab. “I can walk on my own,” she tells him with a smirk.

Chris raises his hands defensively. “Need I remind you that you got a concussion and stitches today? I was just being nice.”

Sam tips an imaginary hat. “Such a gentleman.”

“Ugh, no.”

Sam laughs and nudges him with her shoulder, shutting the door behind her. “Come on, the sooner we hit the hay the sooner we can go back.”

They order room service as soon as they step in the door, taking the time until it’s delivered to remove excess layers, kick off hiking boots, and drop and unpack their bags.

They eat quickly, eager to get to bed. “We can take an Uber, tomorrow,” Sam offers. “If you don’t want to worry about your truck getting towed.”

Chris nods, mouth full of steak that probably could’ve stood another minute on the grill. “That’s probably smart.”

Sam smiles. “I know. I’m just full of the best ideas.”

Chris nudges her with a foot. “You got us this far.”

She shrugs. “Couldn’t have done it on my own.”

“Aww,” Chris says with a rueful smile. “What a flatterer.”

“Don’t be sarcastic,” Sam chides. “Or next time I’ll bring Em on the rescue mission.”

“Oh no, how terrible for me.”

“What did I just say?”

 

* * *

 

Chris manages to get more sleep than he expected, taking Sam’s words to heart. Their presence there won’t have much impact on his recovery, and they’re hardly any good to him when they’re sleep-deprived.

Still, they get up early enough that their Uber driver doesn’t so much as look twice at Sam’s black eye. The ride is quiet, everyone in the car still sipping hot coffee and trying to properly rouse themselves.

They wander uselessly in the hospital for a while before bumping into Josh’s nurse. She gestures for them to wait, making a quick detour into a restricted room. She emerges with some supplies, and waves them along. They follow her through the halls, making idle talk about Josh.

“Well, not much has changed yet,” she says. “We were able to do a few minor procedures, mostly to help the healing rather than the full recovery. We’re still observing his reaction to the morphine before we do anything else.”

“Is that all he’s on right now?” Chris asks.

The nurse nods. “We got Josh’s records concerning his history with antidepressants. Considering he took himself off his last prescription to begin with, and mostly likely has shaken the worst of the withdrawals by this point, there’s no point trying to get him back on them. Especially without the input of a professional who knows him better than us.”

They reach the room, and the nurse gestures for them to sit before bustling into Josh’s room.

Chris slumps back, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “Now we wait,” he says.

Sam smiles. “Maybe now we give our other friends an update?”

He nods. “Ashley relayed a quick message from me, but they probably need more than that.”

“Knowing this group? Definitely.”

Chris chuckles at that. “Okay, then it’s your turn.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Can’t believe you make me do all the work.”

 

* * *

 

They spend their day telling friends and parents what happened, discussing plans, when they might come home. They’re on speaker with Sam’s mom when they get a rude reminder.

“You know, Melinda called me,” she said. “She told me she was very glad Josh had friends who would stick around to help him, and that I should be very proud.”

Chris bites his lip, still guilty he couldn’t do more for Josh before all of this.

“Mom,” Sam scoffs. “It’s not a big deal. If anything you should be upset I was dumb enough to stick around when everyone else had the sense to leave.”

“Nonsense!” her mother chides. “You’ve always had _chutzpah_ , dear. I wasn’t surprised when Melinda told me. Now, would I have appreciated a call? Well-”

“Okay, mom.” Sam interrupts loudly. Chris snorts. “I love you, I’ll call you when we know more.”

“Samantha-”

She ends the call, placing a hand on her forehead. “Ugh.”

Chris can’t help but laugh, and Sam cracks a smile.

“Alright, alright,” she says. “I'm going to call the Washingtons, and then we can go grab something to eat.” She stands, stretching. "I think I'm going to head outside. Maybe get some better reception."

Chris nods. "Good idea. And that way I don't have to listen to you gossip about me."

Sam wrinkles her nose at him. "Oh please. They're going to want to know how you are, you're Josh's best friend."

"I'm messing with you," Chris says. 

Sam flips him off before walking down the hall towards the parking lot. Chris leans back against the wall with a yawn, stretching his legs out.

 

He's just starting to doze in his chair outside Josh’s room when the nurse passes him, giving him a wan smile. He tries to smile back, but it ends up as more of a grimace as he pushes himself upright again.

The door closes with a heavy slam, and Chris fiddles with his phone while he waits for Sam to get back. 

He hears the nurse’s voice through the wall and perks up, wondering who she’s talking to. It’s not impossible that she’s just thinking out loud, but if Josh is up-

There’s a loud bang and a scream, and Chris is on his feet flinging the door open before he can even think. Josh is thrashing against the restraints, snarling and writhing as he tries desperately to lunge at the terrified nurse.

One of the cuffs gives an unnerving squeal, and before Josh can tear free Chris leaps forward, desperately trying to push him back down to the mattress. “The IV!” he yells.

“But the dosage-” the nurse tries to protest.

Josh’s jaws snap together like a bear trap, inches from Chris’ face. “Please!”

She scrambles to the drip, practically draining it into Josh. His eyes wheel and he screeches, but slowly slumps back down to the bed. Chris draws his hands away, hating how cold and hard he still feels.

The nurse is staring down with wide eyes, clearly horrified.

“Thank you,” Chris pants. Josh isn’t looking as good as he might’ve hoped. His skin closer to its usual color than the grey they saw in the mines, but it still had a pallor. The wound on his face has been cleaned, the ragged edges of his lips stitched, but still the needle-sharp teeth jut through. The nails have been pulled from the beds, bandages wrapped around his fingers, which seem longer than before.

She gives him a puzzled look. “Me? Thank you. You’re the one who came in, after...” she trails off.

He tears his eyes from Josh, looking to the nurse. “Can you get the doctor? I think… I think we need to move him.”

The nurse nods and hurries out, sparing one glance behind her. Before the door can swing shut, Sam slips through. “What happened? That poor nurse looked white as a sheet.”

“Josh woke up,” Chris tells her. “It… It wasn’t pretty.”

“Shit. Now what?”

Chris shrugs. The doctor and nurse are approaching at a rushed pace, shooing them away as they enter. Chris lets himself be led towards the cafeteria as he replays the scene over and over in his head.

One thing sticks out to him: Josh met his eyes before he even moved to grab him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnnnn.  
> (Also I've read a few fics where Sam is Jewish, and it became one of my favorite headcanons. So I just couldn't resist including it in my own)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, sorry this is so late! it's been sitting in my drafts for a while, but i wanted to make sure i got some work done on the next chapter before i dropped this one, hopefully to avoid another long break like this one!

“How are they moving Josh?” Sam asks as she tosses her pack in the bed of the truck.

Chris shrugs. “They wouldn’t tell me. I’m assuming they’re flying him in, though.”

Sam nods and slides into her seat. “So… non-stop?”

Chris laughs. “If you’re up to it. It’s a hell of a drive though. I had to stop on the way up.”

“Well, we can take turns!” Sam says. “Driving stick can’t be that hard right?”

“Jesus,” Chris breathes. “Listen, I don’t exactly love this truck, but if you wreck the transmission we’re stranded.”

“Alright, alright.” Sam buckles in as Chris pulls out of the parking lot, placing his phone on the dash to act as GPS. “Probably not as fun to drive as my baby anyway.”

Chris snorts. “How fun can a Subaru be?”

Sam presses a hand to her chest, feigning offense. “How dare you! I’ll have you know that thing handles like a dream.”

“Uh-huh.” Chris pulls onto the road towards the border check.

“So just how long of a drive is it?” she asks.

“Like… just under 24 hours if we’re lucky.”

Sam whistles. “Well shit.”

“Yeah. Why do you think I never did it on my own before?” Chris asks.

Sam raises a brow. “You never thought to ask Josh along any other year?”

He shrugs. “Beth was a nervous flier, he liked being there for her. Besides, I’d rather fly too.”

Sam looks even more quizzical. “She never seemed nervous to me.”

Chris shoots her a smirk. “Yeah well, none of us like embarrassing ourselves in front of the person we like.”

Sam clicks her tongue and turns away to hide her smile. “Please. I think she was just being dramatic so Josh couldn’t bail. You know the twins were always more excited for them than he was.”

Chris hums noncommittally.

  
The first hour passes quietly, the only sound the droning of the radio as both of them slowly wake up under the rising sun. They spend the time enjoying the passing scenery as it brightens around them, the road slowly filling with more cars, especially when they finally exit onto AB-2.

They make it through the check without incident, crossing into the US. Sam yawns and stretches, joints popping. “Never realized how far Calgary is from the border,” she says. “Doesn’t look that bad on a map.”

Chris chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I seriously underestimated that on my way up.”

Sam glances at her watch. “How early is too early to make a stop?”

He peers at the map on his phone thoughtfully. “Well, there’s a town just before we get on the Interstate. That would be a good place to fill up.”

Sam nods in agreement. “And how far is that?”

“Uhh...” Chris squints at his phone. “Hundred miles?”

Sam groans, dropping her head into her hands. “Kill me.”

 

* * *

 

Sam emerges from the gas station with plastic bags dripping with junk food. “Starting to regret not taking the Washington’s offer to fly us back.”

Chris puts the gas nozzle back in the pump, turning to put a hand on his hip. “What, and make me drive back all alone?”

“You could’ve flown back too!” she says.

“And just leave the truck behind?” Chris asks.

“Oh no, what a shame that would be.”

Chris scoffs, getting back into the driver’s seat. “Stop ragging on my dad’s truck, already.”

Sam laughs, clambering in the passenger’s side. “Please, you hate it too.”

“That doesn’t mean my dad wouldn’t kill me for leaving it in Canada.”

Sam snorts, rifling through one of the bags.

Chris nudges her with an elbow before starting the truck. “What, sick of me already?” he asks cheekily.

“I dunno, Chris,” Sam says with a smile, “a week in a hotel room, and now a day-long roadtrip? That’s a lot of time to spend together.”

He scoffs again. “Well, fine then. You can find someone else to entertain you when we get back to LA.”

 

* * *

 

“How lame would it be to stop in every state?” Chris asks.

Sam looks up from the bag of goodies on the floor. “Not at all,” she says. “It would be a good way to keep track of how far we’ve gone. Besides, I’m gonna need to pee soon. Did you know caffeine is a diuretic?”

“Cool,” Chris says, only kind of ignoring her, “because we’re going to be in Idaho soon.”

Sam kicks him playfully. “Hey, you should appreciate my gross trivia. That’s the kind of stuff that wins game shows.”

He laughs. “Just because we live in LA doesn’t mean we’re all going to end up on TV someday.”

“But if you do, you’ll win thanks to me.”

“If you say so, Sam.”

“So, where are we stopping?” she asks.

Chris glances at his phone. “Well, we’ll pass through Idaho Falls. Seems as good a place as any.”

Sam leans back in her seat, tearing open a bag of trail mix. “Ah, the true Idaho experience, then?”

Chris chuckles. “Well, I don’t know about that. There’s probably not going to be any potato farms attached to gas stations or rest stops.”

“Well, damn,” Sam laments with a wry smile.

 

* * *

 

“You know when I think Utah, I don’t think freezing,” Sam says, breath fogging in front of her.

Chris drops the tailgate and turns to glance at her. “Well, it is February. And 9 at night.”

“That doesn’t mean it would be this cold in Sacramento, smartass. We’re way too far south for this shit.”

He doesn’t have a retort to that, so he just laughs as he hops into the back of the truck. He rifles around in his pack for a second while Sam paces, before her phone rings.

She pulls it out, squinting at the caller ID. “Em,” she says. “You up for some hot gossip?”

Chris pockets a bottle of ibuprofen and slides to sit on the tail. “Psssh, always.”

Sam smiles and hits ‘accept’. “Hey Em, you’re on speaker. Chris is here.”

“Hey!” he says.

“Well if it isn’t Hansel and Gretel,” Emily says. “Didn’t get eaten by the witch, I take it?”

Sam snorts, and Chris asks, “Who’s the witch in this situation?”

“Look I didn’t put that much work into the metaphor okay? You’re both blonde, both European, it’s funny.”

Chris laughs at that.

Sam just shakes her head. “You’re losing your edge, Emily.”

“Shut up, it’s late,” she snaps. “You two are in a good mood, considering… you know.”

They share a glance. “Agonizing over it isn’t going to help anything,” Sam says. “Besides, we’re like 13 hours deep in a roadtrip and a little bit giddy.”

“What? Roadtrip where?” Em asks.

Chris’ jaw drops. “We didn’t tell anyone did we.”

Sam blinks, realization crossing her face. “...Oops.”

Emily makes a disgusted sound, and Sam and Chris both break into barely-restrained giggles.

“Alright, you two can’t be that sleep deprived. Tell me where already.”

Chris clears his throat. “Back to LA. They’re transferring Josh down.”

“... Wait, seriously? Do you know what hospital?” she asks.

“I think Kaiser. It’s the closest to Hollywood,” Chris says.

“Didn’t those records we saw say Ocean View? Why wouldn’t they bring him back there?” Sam blurts before she fully registers the cutting motion Chris is making across his throat.

“Ocean View?” Emily asks. “Isn’t that the psychiatric hospital? What the hell was Josh doing there?”

Sam buries her face in her hands, looking guilty.

Chris sighs. “I guess it’s good for everyone to know. Josh’s… thing was more serious than we thought. Or, than he let on I guess. I think the twins found out, eventually.”

“Yeah, Mike said something about that,” Emily tells him, sounding put off. “He wasn’t nearly as sympathetic about it as you guys though.”

“Even though he knows Jess is okay?” Sam asks. “I mean, that whatever happened to her wasn’t Josh?”

Emily lets out a loud sigh that crackles over the speaker. “Mike has a thick skull, he’ll get it eventually.”

Sam glares at Chris before he can say anything disparaging. “Well thanks for calling, Em. We should be down there tomorrow morning. Might need a good nap before we can all meet up though.”

“Please, I still haven’t gotten enough sleep to deal with everyone’s shit at once,” Emily says. “Just let us know when Josh can have more visitors.”

“Will do,” Sam says. “You go get some sleep.”

“Alright, you two drive safe. And wake Mike up if you need someone else to talk to, not me.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t interrupt your beauty sleep,” Chris tells her.

Emily lets out a dry chuckle. “Please, lack of sleep wishes it could touch this. I just don’t want you two pissing me off.”

“Love you too, Emily,” Sam says with a smile.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.” Chris reaches over to shake Sam’s shoulder. “We’re only gonna pass through Arizona for about 50 miles. Still think it’s worth stopping?”

Sam straightens up, nodding tiredly. “Yeah,” she says. “I think getting out and stretching my legs would do me some good.”

Chris nods, replacing his hand on the wheel. “You regretting not stopping yet?”

Sam smiles and shakes her head. “No. I still want to get back as soon as possible. I'd hate for Josh to wake up with no welcoming party.”

He chuckles at that. "I don't think anything's going to happen that quick, Sammy."

She shrugs. "Weirder things have happened."

"You mean like everything that led up to this point?" he asks.

"Exactly!" Sam says. "So would a quick recovery be _that_ strange?"

"I think any recovery would be at this point," Chris reminds her.

Sam sighs, pulling her feet up on the seat. Chris shoots her a look, but doesn't protest. "Well, they wouldn't move him the way he is if they didn't think it would help."

Chris hums. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

Sam narrows her eyes at him. "What's up? You've been so optimistic up until now."

"Because it all seems too good to be true," he admits. "We found him up there, and alive at that. We got him down with minor incident," he glances at the stitches on Sam's face, now covered by a few regular bandages. "We found a doctor with some idea of what to do, and now..."

"Now's kinda the greatest opportunity for failure, huh?" Sam says. 

He sighs. "Yeah. It's all out of our hands now."

Sam nods, leaning her head back again. "Yeah."

 

* * *

 

“I spy something red.”

“What?” Chris asks, turning to look at Sam.

She has her feet kicked up on the dashboard, and is slumped low in her seat. She points out the window vaguely.

“Really?” he asks with a laugh. “We’re playing roadtrip games now?”

“Yes.” Sam says simply. “And unless you want me to punch you for every new state license plate I see, you should guess what’s red.”

“Aren’t you an only child? Who would you even play that with?”

Sam sits up to look out the window again, then punches Chris hard in the shoulder. “Nevada. Also, I went camping with friends all the time, jerk.”

Chris rubs his arm with a curse. “Okay, okay, something red. Uh, that semi truck?”

Sam shakes her head. “Nope.”

Chris sighs. “A sports car that’s already long gone?”

She laughs at that. “Nope!”

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, what?”

Sam throws her hands out. “Literally everything. Look at this! I thought it was an exaggeration when people called the deserts out here red.”

Chris chuckles. “You’ve never been out east?”

Sam shakes her head. “Nope. Been up and down the west coast, and obviously Alberta, but never the southwest.”

“Huh. Well maybe when Josh is better we should all take a legit road trip together.”

Sam turns to smile at him. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Neither of them voice the concern that there’s still a possibility it might be an “if”, not a “when”.

 

* * *

 

Chris pulls up in front of Sam’s house and cuts the engine, sending a quick text.

“Hey.” He reaches over and gently shakes Sam’s shoulder. “Wake up, sleepy head.”

She groans, lifting her head from the window. “Huh? Are we there?” She turns to see her mother bustling out of the house.

Sam narrows her eyes at Chris. “Traitor.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to go home and get some sleep too,” he lies. The door opens, drawing their attention.

Barbara’s face lights up when she sees Sam. “Oh, my sweet!” She grabs Sam’s hand, gently pulling her from the truck. “Come on now, come in and rest.”

Sam rubs a hand over her eyes, sighing. “Alright, mom. I’ll see you later, Chris,” she says with a glower.

He smiles and waves when Barbara mouths ‘thank you’ over Sam’s shoulder. She shuts the door, pulling Sam’s pack from the back of the truck. As they walk towards the home, Barbara wraps an arm around her daughter, pulling her head against her shoulder. Sam has to awkwardly bend at the waist to follow through with the gesture, and Chris smiles fondly.

As much as he’d love to see his dad as soon as possible, he couldn’t bear the thought of spending a minute away from Josh while he recovers.

He starts the truck, shifts it into gear, and takes off in the direction of the hospital.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!! Have a longer, slightly spooky chapter to celebrate

Sam thrusts an open paperboard pastry box under Chris’ nose. “Rugelach?”

“Gesundheit,” he replies as he plucks one of the small pastries out.

“Har har.” She sits down next to him, setting the box in her lap. “My mom made them.”

Chris pops it in his mouth whole. “My compliments to the chef.”

Sam wrinkles her nose at him, but looks amused. “So you’re a traitor _and_ a liar. You’ve totally been here all night. Just saying, that’s typically a deal-breaker. Kind of an unattractive quality, Chris.”

He chokes, regretting trying to eat the dense pastry all at once. Sam thumps him on the back while she laughs, perhaps a little harder than necessary, until he recovers.

“I had to,” he gasps out, eyes streaming. “There was no way you would go home and sleep if you knew I was just coming straight here.”

Sam shakes her head. “Chris, you can’t look out for everyone else before yourself. You need sleep too.”

“I slept here!” Chris protests. In fact, his back still aches from trying to curl up on a padded bench in the seating area.

Sam scoffs. “That’s so not the same thing. Come on, you have to go home sometime.”

He leans back in his seat defiantly. “I’ll leave when Josh can leave with me.”

“Chris-” Sam starts, but just sighs defeatedly when he raises a brow at her. “Fine. Suit yourself. I, on the other hand, slept amazingly last night.”

He smiles. “Y’know, that isn’t the burn you think it is. I wanted you to get some real rest, especially after getting your face split open.”

Sam leans back in her chair, drawing a leg up. “I know. Just felt like rubbing your face in it anyway.” She picks out one of the desserts, nibbling on it as she looks around the room, people-watching.

He lets the companionable silence stretch out, following Sam’s lead and glancing around. Now that Josh has made some progress, he’s in a regular room with a locking door, and the two of them are out in a regular waiting area.

Across the way, Chris sees a familiar face. “No way,” he says, perking up. “Is that…?”

Doctor Nadie makes her way over to them, waving and smiling. Sam straightens up too, shocked.

Chris rubs his eyes. “I must’ve slept worse than I thought.”

Sam shoots him an _I told you so_ look before turning back to the approaching doctor. “What are you doing down here?” she asks.

Nadie shrugs. “Never let it be said I don’t keep up with my patients. And besides-” she gently pats the swell of her stomach that’s now visible without her long coat. “I had some time off set up anyway. Figured this would be a good way to spend some of it.”

Sam cocks her head to the side. “Well, if you’re that far along, should you really be travelling?”

The doctor laughs. “I think our maternity leave is a little more lax than what you may be familiar with.”

“Have they let you see Josh yet?” Chris blurts out, feeling his anxiety start to build again.

Nadie looks a little surprised, but shakes her head. “No, I just got here. You haven’t either, I take it?”

When both of them shake their heads, she sighs. “Okay, I’ll try to get in touch with the doctor they have monitoring Josh. Maybe compare notes, see what they have planned.”

Sam holds out the paperboard box. “Pastry?”

Nadie tsks, but smiles and takes one. “You two don’t have to butter _me_ up. But I’ll try my hardest to get some info for you.” She winks and takes a bite of the rugelach before striding back in the direction of the rooms.

“She’s in a good mood,” Chris notes.

Sam shrugs. “Who doesn’t love a good vacation?”

Chris hums and leans back again, wondering what comes next. What could they possibly have planned for Josh that they couldn’t do in Calgary? He had been worried that returning to the mines would be the worst part, but he realizes now that he was wrong. The waiting is grating on his nerves like nothing else ever has.

* * *

 

Chris is determined not to move except for bathroom breaks, but Sam coaxes him to get food with her, take walks around the outside of the hospital. Even in February, the Californian heat feels oppressive after the biting cold of Mount Washington. He’d much rather stew in the air conditioned waiting room than amble around under the sun.

Sam disagrees with him, so more often than not she leaves him seated while she paces or makes calls or gets food for the both of them.

It’s when she steps out to take a call on their second day waiting there that Chris sees another familiar face.

Ashley, standing against a wall, scanning the room. The black eye is gone, replaced by darting glances at the people around her. She gnaws on her bottom lip, hands knotted together. Chris waves a hand, getting her attention. She startles, brows raising, before she visibly relaxes. Then her eyes drop again, and she shuffles over, staring at her feet.

“Hey,” she mumbles.

“Hey.” Chris tilts his head to try and catch her eye, but she ignores him. “Are you okay?”

“Did you read it?” Ashley spits out in a rush. Her eyes are wide when she lifts her head. “I mean- I don’t really-”

“No,” he says immediately. “No, I- I didn’t.”

Ashley doesn’t look relieved exactly, but she seems to relax. “Oh. Okay.” Then she stares down at her feet again with a wry smile. “That’s good, I mean, thank you but… maybe you should’ve.”

Chris feels lost. “Why?”

She peers up at him again, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Y’know. To finally get a grasp of the bullet you dodged.”

“Ash-” Chris reaches out, gently prying her hands apart when he sees she’s picking her cuticles bloody. “I don’t think of you that way, and neither should you.”

Ashley bites her lip again, trying not to cry, but doesn’t pull her hands away. “I’m not a good person,” she whispers hoarsely, not meeting his eyes. “The basement, with Emily, and when we were under those saws...” she shakes her head.

“None of us are after that night,” Chris says sternly. Ashley looks surprised. “I didn’t exactly jump between Mike and Emily. And I was there when Mike tied Josh up in the shed. We all fucked up.”

Ashley rubs at her eyes. “Some of us more than others,” she murmurs. But her tone is more petulant than truly upset, so Chris takes that as a good sign.

He scoffs. “If you mean Mike, then I agree. But there’s really no better or worse for what happened that night. And I’d say you already got yours for what happened in the basement,” he says tentatively, hoping he isn’t prodding a tender spot. “You don’t have to pull away from everybody for some sense of…. I don’t know, absolution?”

Ashley gives him a pained look. “Oh, Chris, I’m so sorry. I'm making this all about me when… How's Josh?”

Chris feels like he's starting to get emotional whiplash. “Josh, uh…” He sighs. “You might want to sit down. It's a long story.”

Ashley gently draws her hands back and takes a seat next to him. He starts with the fire, his fucked up ankle, the agonizing days of waiting, the workshop in the old hotel. Ashley looks horrified but not surprised. Chris wonders if Sam has been talking to her much.

He talks about the hike, the cabin, navigating the sanatorium and the mines. He pauses there, his stomach twisting into knots.

Ashley gives him a curious look. “Well?” she asks. “You get into the mines, and then what?”

He relays it all, every gory detail. The remains of the search party, Josh's presence, Sam falling, trekking back down the mountain with him. When he rounds it all off with the hospital in Calgary, he almost wishes Sam had come back during the retelling to give him a break.

“But… you said Josh was looking better?” Ashley presses.

Chris sighs. “Yeah, as much as anyone could look after that.” He leans his elbows on his legs, resting his head in his hands. “I’m so worried all of this will have been for nothing. That there’s no recovery.”

“Don’t say that,” Ashley whispers. “If things are already changing then- then they can get better.”

He turns his head to give her a small smile. “Is that just a general observation, or are we still talking about Josh?”

She flushes a bit but smiles back. “I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

Chris chuckles. “Please, after that look you gave me outside the police station I was worried I’d never hear another word from you.”

Ashley winces a bit. “I was… Drained. Maybe my fuse was a little short. I wrote that long text on the way to the airport. I didn’t realize what a bad idea it was until I saw Mike practically carrying Jess to the gate.” She frowns. “It’s pretty much a miracle we all got out. We shouldn’t argue over… stupid shit anymore.”

Chris smiles. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Mike is such a wuss.” Sam says as she approaches. “I asked if he might help Jess if she wants to visit, and he said he’s _scared_ of-” she stops, looking surprised. “Ash!”

Ashley smiles, looking a little guilty. “Hi Sam. Sorry I didn’t say anything on my way in, I was kind of on a mission.”

Chris shrugs when Sam raises a brow at him. “Everything’s good.”

Sam looks pleased. “Well good. I knew you two would work it out eventually.” She gently hauls Ashley out of her seat to give her a hug before flopping down next to her. “Anyway, apparently Jess is in this hospital too.”

“What!?” Chris asks, leaning around Ashley.

Sam nods, frowning. “I guess she really messed up her back when the elevator fell, and she thought it was just bruised. She started having some bad nerve pain and trouble walking, so Mike drove her in. They think she might’ve fractured something.”

“Fuck, Sam,” Chris groans as Ashley claps a hand over her mouth.

“I know,” she says. “They say she’s going to be fine but they have no idea how permanent the damage is going to be yet.”

“Who brought her here?” Ashley asks.

Sam smiles. “Well, that’s an interesting story. Because it was Matt, Mike, _and_ Emily. They’re all like, together now.”

Ashley looks confused. “How does that work?” she asks.

Sam shrugs. “I didn’t exactly ask for the relationship gossip. But my understanding is that Jess and Emily realized they liked each other, Matt and Mike had a conversation about what happened on the trail, and in the mines when Matt and Jess found each other, realized they both had feelings for Jess _and_ Em, and decided they ought to try to work their stuff out too. Hopefully it works out, otherwise that’s one hell of a breakup.”

Chris can’t help but laugh at that. “And look how bad their last one was.”

“It literally almost got one of them killed,” Ashley murmurs.

Sam hums thoughtfully. “Well hopefully we all learned from what happened on the mountain, and none of that happens again.”

Chris and Ashley both nod in agreement, and the three lapse into a companionable silence. They watch the flow of people through the room, letting the time slip away. When Ashley’s phone buzzes, she jumps, as if being roused from a daze. She glances at the lit-up screen and flushes.

“I didn’t realize what time it was,” she admits, standing. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Sam frowns. “Really? It’s been good seeing you.”

Ashley shifts on her feet, debating her options. “No,” she decides, “I’ll leave you be. Call me when Josh and Jess can have visitors? Or… want them, for the former.” she adds.

Sam nods, and stands as well. “Yeah, of course.” She wraps Ashley in another tight hug, surprising her.

When the two pull away, she’s blushing again, and barely gives Chris a wave before fleeing. “B-bye you two!”

Chris snorts as Sam reseats herself. “What?” she asks.

“Ladykiller,” Chris says.

Sam just scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. Ash is as straight and narrow as they come,” she says. But her expression is one of not wanting to believe her own words. Chris is familiar with it.

“I dunno, Sam.” He jostles her playfully with an elbow. “That didn’t look very straight to me. I think I’d know.”

Sam scrunches her nose up at him. “Right, like _you’d_ know over me.”

“What does that mean?” he asks with a laugh.

“ _I’m_ not the one who spent years in denial over having feelings for my best friend,” she reminds him.

Chris groans and lets his head fall back against the seat. “You make it sound so angsty.”

Sam snorts. “Please, I met you in middle school. You were _so_ angsty.”

“That’s just teen angst,” he retorts. “That has nothing to do with- I don’t know, repressed feelings!”

Sam looks smug as she holds her hands up in surrender. “Your words, not mine.”

“You’re the worst.”

* * *

 

Chris is dozing in his chair when he hears a scrabbling sound in the direction of Josh’s room. He blinks, taking in the milling crowd before looking down the hall. There, sprawled out like the worst kind of spider, is Josh. Limbs horribly stretched, face almost beyond recognition, mouth a bloody maw of needle teeth.

Chris feels his throat go dry and straightens up, hands clenching in his lap reflexively. Before he can blink Josh is on top of him, sensing his movement. The clawed hands dig agonizingly into his shoulders, gaping jaws breathing hot rancid air over his face.

He realizes what's clenched in his hands when Josh lunges for his throat but barely scrapes his chin. A sawed-off shotgun, its twin barrels pressed into Josh’s chest.

Chris sucks in a breath, and what's left of Josh’s pupils dilate. Before he can make a second attempt, or tear his arms clean off, Chris pulls the heavy trigger. The blast that goes off is so loud it practically blinds him along with setting his ears ringing.

But when he opens his eyes, the body that was blown back by the shot isn't monstrous. It's just Josh, the way Chris remembers him from every day before that last night on the mountain. Green eyes wide, uninjured mouth gaping, chest a gory, blown-apart mess.

Chris reaches out in horror, wondering what he just did. Josh recoils from the touch, looking terrified even as he crumples to the ground. Chris wants to scream, or sob, or even turn the gun in his hands, but a touch like fire lands on his shoulder, pinning him in place.

When he tries to shake it off, he nearly throws himself from his seat and jerks awake, face to face with a concerned Sam, who's balancing two cups of coffee in the hand not gripping Chris’ shoulder.

“Hey, I thought I told you not to fall asleep. Do you want your cappuccino that's so wet it may as well be a latte or not?”

Chris can feel bile burning the back of his throat. “Yeah,” he chokes out. “Yeah, I think I need it.”

Sam hands him the cup, still looking worried. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

He shakes his head. “Bad dream.”

Sam sits next to him with a sigh. “Yeah, I think we’re all getting our fair share of those.”

He thinks about what he told Ashley, about them all being bad people now. He remembers the terror on dream-Josh’s face when Chris tried to touch him. He takes a sip of his coffee. “This was like… really bad. Pure nightmare fuel.”

Sam hums sympathetically, sipping her own drink. Chris tries and fails not to fumble his phone as he pulls it out of his pocket. Sam gives him a look out of the corner of her eye, but otherwise lets it slide. It’s February 16th, the fourth day they’ve been here. And it’s only about 7 pm.

“I talked to Doctor Nadie on my way in,” Sam says.

Chris raises a brow, appreciating the change in subject. “What did she say?”

“Apparently she had a hell of a time convincing the doctors to let her take part in whatever conversations they’re having. But she did, and she said that one of the criteria was her keeping the treatment secret.”

Chris let out a drawn out groan, tipping his head back. “What the fuck.”

“But she did tell me most of it is basically ‘just wait and see’,” Sam admits, brows furrowing.

“Seriously?” Chris asks.

“What else should they do?” Sam says. “What else can they do?”

Chris throws his hands up. “I don’t know! They’re doctors! It’s their job to know that shit.”

Sam’s face twitches when he raises his voice, like she’s trying not to scowl. Instead her face settles into a pitying look that Chris thinks is even worse.

“Chris. You need some real rest. And if we’re just waiting, then I don’t think waiting at home would be the worst thing.”

He feels sick at the thought of going back to sleep after that nightmare. “I’m fine here, Sam.”

Sam sighs, rubbing between her brows as if she’s trying to dispel a headache. “Okay, look. I don’t want to be mean but you won’t listen to nice. You’re starting to get short-tempered, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. And when was the last time you had a real shower?” she asks pointedly. “Seriously Chris, I know you want to be here for Josh, but at least go home tonight. Clean up, talk to your dad, get some rest. Nothing’s going to happen overnight.”

Chris should probably be embarrassed but he just sighs in resignation. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. One night.”

Sam smiles. “Thank you.”

“I owe you one, after you got your face split open because of me,” Chris tells her.

Sam laughs. “Oh please, that’s hardly the worst that could’ve happened. Besides, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, if you say so-” he starts, leaning back more comfortably in his seat.

Sam punches him in the shoulder. “No, I take it back. You owe me twenty. Go home, nerd.”

He chuckles, sitting up again. “Alright, alright.”

* * *

 

Chris shoves a parking ticket in his pocket as he hops out of his truck, grumbling about heartless cops and lack of proper signage around the hospital. He hefts his backpack out of the bed of the truck, grateful for the dry Californian weather. The pack feels foreign in his hands now, like they traveled up the mountain in another lifetime.

He opens the door and steps in, ready to call for his dad when he hears steady footsteps coming down the stairs. He shuts the door behind him before dropping the bag and kicking his shoes off, feeling strangely like a guest in his own home.

His dad rounds the corner into the small foyer, looking tired but beaming nonetheless. “Heard the truck pull up,” he says.

Chris winces a little. “Yeah, I’ve been running it a little hard.”

His dad chuckles and steps forward to pull Chris into a hug. “Nevermind that. I’m just glad you’re home.”

Chris returns the hug with a smile. “Believe me, I’m glad to be home.”

His dad steps back to raise a brow. “Had to hear from Barb that you were back in town. Figured you of all kids would have no problem putting that unlimited phone plan to use.”

Even though he doesn’t sound upset, Chris can’t help but feel guilty. “I’m sorry Dad. Shit kinda- hit the fan. In a big way.”

His dad sighs, folding his arms. “I heard there was an accident. What happened?”

Chris groans at the idea of retelling the story again. “If you let me shower first I promise I’ll give you all the gory details.” He winces at his choice of words.

His dad laughs, patting him on the shoulder. “Alright, alright. I’ll put something on while you clean up. Any requests?”

Chris’ stomach growls. “Anything I can eat like, five servings of.”

His dad smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Coming right up.”

Chris stands under the hot water of the shower for a long time, just letting the weeks slough off him. The stress, the dirt, the worry. All of it going down the drain as his hair plasters to his forehead.

By the time he’s dried off and dressed, the scent of spaghetti and garlic bread have permeated the house. The two eat quietly at first, until Chris finally spills the entire story. What really happened to Beth and Hannah, Josh’s plan, how everything went wrong.

His dad stays silent for the most part, listening intently. He only makes a sympathetic noise and pats his son’s hand when he describes finding Josh in the mines. Chris swallows around a lump in his throat and continues.

He’s done with the story by the time they’re both full, and he works to help his dad package up the leftovers and clean up in silence.

It isn’t until they’ve dried the last plate and Chris is wondering if 8 pm is too early to go to sleep when his dad asks, “You’re going back in the morning, aren’t you?” more matter-of-factly than an actual question.

Chris sighs. “Yeah. And I’m probably staying there. I’m sorry.”

His dad shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant. It’s good you want to be there for Josh. But maybe leave the truck this time, yeah? Can’t have you racking up too many tickets now.”

Chris smiles. “Alright dad.”

He trudges up to his room, expecting it to be musty and unbothered, before he remembers he had come home for a few days before leaving on the trip. The sheets are mussed and clumped at the foot of the bed, clothes scattered across the floor, his curtains drawn open wide. If anything is dusty and unused, it’s his dorm at college. His head swims with the thought of going back to school after all of this.

So instead he collapses into bed, determined not to think of anything.

* * *

 

The next morning he doesn’t get up especially early, only rising when the smell of brewing coffee reaches his room. He shuffles downstairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He glances around for his dad before seeing a note leaned against the half-empty coffee pot.

A glance at the clock reminds him that, of course, his dad would be at work by now. He helps himself to a mug of lukewarm coffee, pouring in copious helpings of milk and sugar. 

He pours a bowl of cereal and seats himself at the dining table, alternating between sips of coffee and spoonfuls of gradually soggier cereal as he scrolls on his phone. The situation would seem almost normal if it weren’t for the absence of snarky back-and-forths from his friends on his feed.

By the time the mug and the bowl are drained, Chris is anxious to get back to the hospital. He dresses hurriedly, brushing his teeth and barely running a hand through his hair before darting out to catch a ride.

 

When he gets to the hospital, Sam is already there, texting rapidly. “Morning,” he says.

She glances up and gives him a wide smile. “Morning. You’re late.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s _your_ fault I seem to recall.”

She smirks, nose crinkling. “Well if it’s any consolation you look much better.”

Chris sits next to her. “Any word about Josh?” he asks.

Sam shakes her head. “I would’ve called you first thing if there was,” she promises.

Chris gives her a genuine smile. “I appreciate that.”

“Only because you’d kill me if I didn’t,” she amends.

Chris scoffs, before pausing. “Well. ‘Kill’ may be an exaggeration.”

She shoots him a look out of the corner of her eye and smiles. “When will you just accept that I’m always right?”

Chris shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, slumping down in the seat. “When hell freezes over, Sam.”

* * *

 

Sometime later, Sam nudges him with a foot, making him look up from his phone. She points at her cheek. “I have to get these taken out. You stay put, alright?”

Chris squints at her. “Where else would I be?”

Sam cracks a smile. “That’s the joke, Chris.”

He levels a dry stare at her. “Har har.”

She chuckles and walks over to where Doctor Nadie is standing, sharing a few words before walking down the hall.

Chris is about to return his attention to his phone when a nurse practically bursts from Josh’s room, bustling down the hall. He watches after her, wondering what’s going on.

He shakes his head, and stands to take a quick trip to the bathroom before Sam got back. But as he makes his way back to his seat, something catches his eye. Josh’s door, sitting ajar.

Chris’ mind grinds to a halt. Had the nurse forgotten, or had she left it open on purpose? His throat goes dry as he imagines Josh lumbering around the hospital in the same state they’d found him in down in the mines.

Chris opens the door, stepping into the private room. The bed was empty, and a glance to the adjoining bathroom revealed it in the same state. “Josh?” Chris asked the silent room, turning on his heel as if expecting his friend to be behind him.

“Josh!?” he repeats, distress coloring his tone. Had the treatment not worked? How far could he have gotten? How much damage-

“Out here, Cochise,” rang a familiar voice from the balcony. Chris turned again, and saw a hand waving from the far side of the room, bandaged fingers stark against the skyline. He sighed, striding towards him. Josh was leaning against the railing, a cigarette pinched between his first two fingers, IV hanger on the opposite side of him.

Chris couldn’t help himself. “Seriously?” he asked, “After everything you’ve been through, you’re still smoking? Where did you even get that?”

Josh raised an eyebrow, cutting his eyes at Chris. “If this didn’t kill me,” he gestured with his free hand at himself, “ _this_ won’t.” He gestured with the hand holding the cigarette before bringing it back to his lips.

“That’s… not how it works, man.” Chris says, a small smile breaking through.

“Good to see you, by the way,” Josh added as he exhaled the smoke in a sharp gust, tone humorous.

He pushed against the railing, bracing himself as he arched his back, causing several muffled pops. He sighed gratefully, eyes closed. At least, the one Chris could see was. He had no idea what was going on on the left side of Josh’s face- he stayed facing out into the city, keeping Chris on his right.

But that wasn’t his concern right now. “You-” he started, brows shooting up.

“You too?” Josh supplied, smiling over at him.

“No- I mean,” Chris faltered, “yeah but- you’re _taller_ than me,” he said, surprised. He hadn’t noticed in the mines, too busy trying to save his best friend and not be ripped apart by him in the process. A few inches difference was easy to overlook when you’re staring down a maw of razor-sharp teeth like the barrel of a gun.

Josh snuffed his cigarette against the railing, dropping it at his feet. He turned to face Chris fully, eyes heavily lidded as he smiled wide at him. “That’ll happen, Cochise.”

Josh’s left cheek is in the same state as the mines, flesh ragged and torn, sharp, horrible teeth jutting through like pearly white needles. It’s less bloody, more healed looking, but still hard to look at. His right eye is still slightly milky, looking grey against the bright, clear green of its twin.

Chris’ expression must have faltered, because Josh frowned, brows furrowing. “What? Expecting me to look like I just came back from a spa day? Totally fine and back to normal?”

“No, of course not,” Chris started, “I just figured they would’ve patched you up at least a little.”

Josh grins at this, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Chris notes that even the canines on the right side of his mouth look sharper too. “Yeah right, none of them wanna get anywhere near this mess.” Then he purses his lips, as if mulling over his next words. “And I think I’m gonna tell them not to, when it comes down to it.”

Chris flounders for a second, unsure how to respond. “How much do you remember?” he asks instead.

Josh gives him a flat look. “Do you really want to go over this now?”

Chris stands his ground. “I’d rather get it out of the way, wouldn’t you?”

Josh continues to stare for a few long seconds before chuckling, shaking his head. “Always the pragmatic one, Cochise. Alright.” He rolls his shoulders, leaning his hip against the railing. “I remember the whole night, obviously. I remember getting dragged back to that room in the mines after Sam and Mike tried to haul me out. After that...” He grinds his teeth for a second. “I kept getting worse. Seeing things that weren’t there, imagining things that weren’t happening.” He laughs humorlessly. “At first I thought I was eating something that wasn’t real when I finally got hungry. Then everything started to hurt.”

Chris sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t interrupt.

“It’s like the worst growing pains you can imagine. All of your muscles are sore, your bones ache, your skin is tender.” He brings a hand to his damaged cheek. “Your teeth feel like they’re being wrenched out of your jaw. But the cold goes away. The hunger gets worse.” He looks out at the city, as if searching for what to say next.

“Everything else is in snapshots. The search crew. Bones, blood. You two.” He takes a deep breath. “That’s when I start to get it back. I… still wasn’t quite right, in that other hospital. But the world was quiet again, finally. The pain was gone. But the panic was still there. I freaked out.”

“It looked like you were going to gut that nurse, man,” Chris says bluntly.

Josh swallows. “I might’ve. I just wanted you guys to come back. And then when you came in I was mad that you left me there.” He chuckles. “I wasn’t exactly in a reasonable state of mind.”

“But it worked,” Chris interjects. “Taking you off the mountain.”

Josh nods. “It wasn’t like pulling the mask off a Scooby-Doo villain, though,” he says, smiling thinly and glancing out of the corner of his eye at Chris. “It was more like draining the blood from a pig. It takes time to get everything out, even if you take the whole head off.”

“Gross.” Chris wrinkles his nose. “But I guess I understand what you mean.”

“I still...” Josh runs his tongue over his teeth, thinking. “Not all of it is gone, I mean. I’m still sensitive to motion. I’m _so_ hungry, all the time.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris says, feeling sick. “We tried to get up there quicker, but the fire- and my ankle-”

Josh waves him off. “C’mon, let’s go sit. Then you can give me the whole story.”

“Great,” Chris mumbles.

Josh throws him an amused glance over his shoulder. “What, not up for regaling me with the tales of your heroic journey?”

Chris sighs as he drags the lone armchair in the room to the side of the bed. “Honestly it was more traumatic than heroic.”

Josh sidles onto the bed, rolling the IV hanger into place. “Well, sorry to traumatize you Cochise.”

“Don’t worry, _that_ trauma isn’t your fault.”

Josh scrunches his nose up at him but smiles as he lounges back. “Alright then, what _can_ you catch me up on?”

Chris thinks briefly of the promise he made to Sam in the mines before quickly shoving it to the back of his mind. That’s something that ought to be saved for later.

“Uh, Jess is alive. I guess you probably didn’t know that.”

Josh looks surprised, then relieved. “Good. Even knowing I didn’t hurt her I’d hate to lose someone because I of what I did.” After a pause he raises a brow. “But… only alive? Is she okay?”

Chris winces. “She fractured her back falling down an elevator shaft, and they think there might be more damage. She’s actually at this hospital,” he notes. “She’s going to be fine, but I don’t think they’re letting _her_ stand on a balcony and smoke.”

Josh smirks. “Well I certainly hope not.” Then his expression falls. “But fuck, her back. That’s... What about everyone else?”

Chris shrugged. “Bumps and bruises. Mike lost a few fingers, Sam got a gash in her cheek, and Emily got a bite but everyone’s healing up.”

Josh frowns. “Her _cheek?_ How bad is it?”

Chris traces a line over his cheekbone. “Up here, not around the mouth. The muscle didn’t get damaged.”

Josh nods. “When did that happen? I didn’t see Sam after the basement, so...”

Chris’ throat goes dry. “Actually that was… later. When we were getting you. You whirled around and caught her with the back of your hand-” He shuts his mouth with an audible pop, deciding not to go into details.

Josh groans. “Fuck. I figured I didn’t go down easy but I didn’t know-”

The door flies open, revealing the nurse Chris had seen and someone he can only assume is one of Josh’s doctors.  

“What are you doing in here!?” the nurse asks, wide-eyed.

“You left the door open,” Chris says plainly, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Josh snorts and the nurse turns red, looking flustered. The doctor gives her a glance but seems otherwise unbothered. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room for now. We need to do some important check-ups and vital tests.”

Chris turns back to Josh to give him a look that he hopes conveys just how unimpressed he is that Josh left to smoke before sharing a single word with a doctor.

Josh smirks, so Chris can only assume he got the message. He stands reluctantly, wondering how long they’re going to take. Before either can protest, Chris leans over and wraps Josh in a tight hug.

“It's good to have you back, man,” he murmurs, tightening his embrace.

Josh jumps a little, seeming stuck on what to do, so he simply lifts his own arms, pulling Chris closer. After a beat his hands clench in the back of Chris’ shirt and he presses his face against the others neck.

“Okay, I’m sorry to break this up but we really must get these records set,” the doctor insists, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Chris pulls back, feeling Josh’s bandaged fingers dig deeper for just a second before releasing him. “I’ll be back with Sam as soon as they let us in, okay?”

Josh smiles, looking tired. “You better.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, back to the regular-length chapters now. Our first (but definitely not last) chapter from Josh's POV! This was a blast to write, and hopefully if you dread this holiday like I do, this will brighten your day at least a little!
> 
> (also, brief warning for emetophobia. i tried to be as vague as possible, but it is mentioned towards the beginning of the chapter)

The tests end up being extensive. Josh has blood taken, goes in for x-rays and CT scans to make sure the changes his body underwent aren’t a risk. They refer him to a therapist in the hospital, scheduling appointments every three days. He’s hooked up to a heart monitor, has his blood pressure taken routinely. They let him eat to his heart’s content to evaluate the caloric intake he needs, then immediately call in the rest of some team Josh wasn’t aware existed when he gets sick.

At the end of it all he’s exhausted and faintly nauseous, so they decide to prohibit any visitation for the rest of the day. As much as Josh wants to see Sam and apologize, he’s relieved when the nurse finally shuts the door, turning off the lights as she leaves.

Fading sunlight still filters through the curtains, but Josh falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. He feels tense, expecting some horrible nightmares rehashing his long weeks spent on the mountain, but when he peels his eyes open to the commotion of a nurse bustling around taking readings of machines, the night feels as if it passed in mere moments. He takes a deep breath, the antiseptic smell of the room stale and harsh.

The nurse asks him a few questions and he answers them in a half-asleep daze, struggling to concentrate. He must’ve slept a long time, judging by the bright sunlight filling the room. But the nurse leaves, apparently content with his half-gibberish answers. Josh pushes himself up to lean against the pillows, rubbing his knuckles against his eyes.

His sight was never extraordinary, probably from sitting too close to screens playing games as a kid, but now it’s worse. Everything is slightly smudgy, at any distance. Even standing on the balcony yesterday staring at people walking three floors down on the sidewalk, there wasn’t any noticeable difference either way.

And some part of his brain still latches onto motion more than he remembers before. As he observes his room the only thing moving are the curtains over the door to the balcony, blowing in a breeze through the cracked door. Every time it twitches, his eyes snap over to it. Like seeing a hallucination out of the corner of your eye, his attention is immediately and involuntarily drawn.  

He starts to stand to shut the door, before seeing everything he’s attached to. The IV is still in the back of his hand, along with the heart rate sensor clamped to a pointer finger, and a blood pressure cuff around the bicep of the same arm.

He slumps back into bed with a huff, deciding not to waste time trying to figure out which can be removed or wheeled about. Then something else catches his eye, a tray of food on a small table next to the bed, and he perks up. He’s starving after retching up nearly everything he’d eaten after waking up, but he still eats cautiously, not wanting to repeat the event.

He’s just about done with a bland breakfast burrito when a nurse knocks on the door, poking her head in. “Visiting hours are open,” she informs him. “Are you feeling up to it?”

He nods vigorously, setting the tray back down. “Yeah, I’m good.”

The nurse smiles before retreating, holding the door open. Chris and Sam walk in, looking excited. Josh tries not to wince at the sight of the raw red line across Sam’s left cheek. It nearly stretches to her temple, stopping just under the corner of her eye. But she’s smiling so wide Josh almost worries it might split open, no trace of fear or trepidation on her face.

The door shuts, and Chris opens his mouth to say something, but Sam practically flies forward, pulling Josh into a hug.

“Oh, I’m so glad,” she says, bumping her head against his in a way that reminds him inexplicably of her very grumpy Siamese cat. “It would’ve killed me to lose you after everything,” she admits.

Over Sam’s shoulder, Chris has a strange look on his face, but Josh barely registers it over his own sudden embarrassment, like he _tripped_ into the mines and caused all of this, as opposed to being dragged bodily by a monster of legend.

“Then I’m glad you guys could get me out,” Josh murmurs. “I- I don’t want anyone else dead. I never did, Sam, really-”

She pulls back to meet his eyes, but leaves her hands on his shoulders. “I know Josh, I know. You don’t have to apologize to us anymore, okay?”

Josh nods, not trusting his voice. Sam drops her hands to his and seats herself in the armchair, looking pensive.

Josh looks back up to Chris, who seemingly hasn’t moved a muscle. “You okay, Cochise?” he asks. “You look like you’re about to be sick. Didn’t catch something from me, didja?”

Chris snaps out of it at the sound of Josh’s voice, but doesn’t acknowledge the joke. He just smiles somewhat weakly, and moves closer to the bed. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Because having you guys here is nice, but I don’t want any permanent guests with me.”

Sam smiles, looking between them. “Don’t worry, we’re all taking it easy.”

Josh frowns a little. “A certain birdie did tell me Jess was here, though.”

Sam glances at Chris, who’s standing at her shoulder, before wincing sympathetically. “Yeah. She… had a rough night. But she’s going to be fine.”

“I think we’re all just glad to be alive at this point,” Chris confides. “Injuries be damned.”

Josh smiles wryly at that. “Speak for yourself,” he says. But when Sam’s expression immediately falls, he backpedals. “It’s- a joke, I’m joking. You know I have a shitty sense of humor Sammy, I mean, look at my idea of a prank.”

Sam makes a face. “That’s… different. Don’t joke about that. Wanting to be dead.”

Josh’s mouth feels like cotton as he tries to find words. “I- Okay.”

“ _Everyone’s_ glad you’re okay,” Chris emphasizes. “Not just us. Ashley wanted us to say so.”

Something clicks in Josh’s brain then. “Where are my parents?” he asks. “I mean, the last few times I was in the hospital they were hot on my heels,” he says, hoping his face doesn’t look like as much of a wince as it feels.

Sam and Chris share a look. Sam looks mad, but like she’s trying to hide it, while Chris is plain wide-eyed shock.

They both turn back to him, seemingly waiting for the other to say something. “Last we heard your dad was still on set,” Chris admits. “That was… back in Calgary.”

“Seriously?” Josh asks, wondering if this is some rebuttal prank. “Like, not even a call?”

“Well, we haven’t been good at keeping up with everyone else either,” Sam rushes out. “I mean, everyone else has had to hear it through the grapevine. So I wouldn’t be surprised-”

“This hospital has my parent’s number on record,” Josh says bluntly. “They know I’m here.”

“Josh,” Sam whispers, reaching out towards him.

“I still haven’t gotten the story, you know,” Josh interrupts her again. Sam’s mouth clicks shut, and she freezes with a hand out. “I mean, I got the gist, but you can’t leave out all the good stuff.”

Sam’s hand drops back to the bed, and she looks at Chris, raising a brow. He holds his hands up. “Don’t look at me. I’ve already had to tell it twice. Three times if you count when we met Doctor Nadie.”

Sam sighs, and rolls her eyes before turning back to Josh. “Alright, well. I guess it’s safe to say it starts with us getting off the mountain….”

* * *

 

Nearly half an hour later, Sam is sitting sideways in the chair with one leg slung over the arm, and Chris is perched on the foot of Josh’s bed, his hand a burning pressure on his shin. He wonders distantly if touching his best friend will ever stop feeling like this. If he’ll ever get over it.

“And then I literally had to bully Chris into going home,” Sam is saying, eyes on the ceiling. “Because apparently he couldn’t smell himself-”

“Hey-” Chris interrupts, sitting upright as if jolted from a daydream. “I smelled fine, thank you.”

Josh chuckles. “I dunno, you have some pretty intense BO man.”

Chris turns pink, looking affronted. “Are you two seriously ganging up on me right now?”

Sam and Josh share a look, and burst into twin laughs. Chris manages to keep up his frown for an admirable moment before he breaks, a wry smile crossing his face as he looks away with a scoff. “You’re terrible.”

“You love us!” Sam objects as her laughter dies off.

Chris turns back to retaliate, but when his eyes meet Josh’s he closes his mouth, smiling softly. Josh blinks, and Chris shakes his head, turning back to look at the door. “Terrible,” he says lamely, the smile still playing at the corners of his lips.

Josh spares a glance at Sam, but she seems oblivious to whatever passed between them. Josh swallows, hoping the speeding of his heart isn’t too noticeable on the monitor. His only tell suddenly being broadcast to the whole room is more than a little panic-inducing when Chris still hasn’t taken his hand off Josh’s leg.

It isn't strange. Casual touches between them have become like second nature. Leaning against shoulders, throwing legs over laps, hands mussing up hair. Ever since they met in elementary school, people made jokes about them being attached at the hip.

And if Josh occasionally took advantage of that and threw an arm around Chris’ shoulders to pull him especially close and talk right in his ear just to see him get flustered then who could blame him? 

But the friendly, joking, sometime rough-housing nature of it all doesn't explain the way Josh’s heart speeds up when Chris’ hand finds his. Or the way his stomach twists in knots when Chris flings himself over his lap, exasperated after being thoroughly decimated in Mario Kart. And definitely not the way his skin burns where it meets Chris’.

He'd thought Chris was cute from the first day he sat next to him, but the butterflies and daydreams and fantasies only got worse. It had very nearly reached a breaking point when they were in college, sharing a dorm, a bunkbed, classes. Even more so than before, every waking hour was spent together.

And then the twins went missing, and Josh had suddenly become disconnected from everything. Like he was watching his whole life go by through a cctv screen.

But now, sitting in a hospital bed with jagged teeth tearing through his face, razor-sharp nails pulled from his fingers, blurry motion-based sight and all, Sam and Chris talking across him are clearer than ever.

He can't see the way Sam’s eyes crinkle when she smiles, or feel her fingers under his through the bandages, but he can hear her laugh, feel the warmth emanating off her.

He can't shuffle down the bed and rest his left side on Chris’ shoulder, or make fun of him for his mole-like eyesight, but he can revel in the way his heart swells in his chest and the disarray in his brain settles neatly into place when they share the same space.

It almost feels normal, except when Josh feels the tug of his IV when he waves a hand, or the stiff hospital sheet over his legs. And though Sam and Chris clearly feel no fear around him, sometimes he’ll catch Sam giving him a sympathetic look that makes him want to be sick. He’s never wanted sympathy, or pity. He doesn’t want to be treated like he’s fragile.

When the nurse pops her head in to show his visitors out, Josh feels as if the afternoon has passed in moments. The door shuts, and Chris and Sam sigh like kids being dragged from a playdate by impatient parents.

Josh can’t help but smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here tomorrow,” he promises.

Chris pats his leg before standing and stretching. “So will we. Right Sammy?”

She nods. “Of course.”

Chris sidles past her to hug Josh, which he reciprocates without hesitation this time around. Chris pulls away, giving Josh a quick squeeze to the elbow before he moves to stand behind Sam.

She hugs him with an almost crushing force, squeezing a wheezy chuckle out of him. “We’ll be here every day you’ll have us until you’re out.”

“And then what?” he asks jokingly as she pulls back.

She smiles and wrinkles her nose. “Then you have to put forward some effort too, smartass. Seriously. I know you know how to text.”

Chris chuckles and waves, slipping out the door.

Sam stands and starts to turn and follow Chris, but Josh quickly reaches out, circling her wrist. The bandages on his fingers feel like sandpaper against her skin, and he has to resist the urge to wrench away, bile rising in his throat as his mind loops the feeling of her skin splitting under his.

She looks back, expression curious.

“I just-” Josh forces out, trying to blink away the mental image. “Thank you guys for being here. After everything.”

Sam smiles, her face lighting up. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 _That’s what I’m afraid of,_ he thinks as she bends down to press a kiss to his hairline.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> long time no update, sorry about that! but i promise i'm not done with this yet. as a bonus, (since this is also kind of a filler chapter just to get some stuff established) i decided to upload my atsc playlist! this will spoil the fic a bit, if you count 'it ends happily' as a spoiler. https://playmoss.com/en/aeronq/playlist/after-the-smoke-clears 
> 
> also, i added/revamped some things, including the summary! if you want to go through and try to find the changes, you can get one (1) free pass to nag me for any late updates in the future when you find one

The room is cozy in a way that Josh immediately deems unpleasant. A cushy armchair- currently occupied by himself- a stylish loveseat, and a small writing desk and chair take up the small room.

There’s only one narrow window, but it must face east, because the morning sun makes the room almost uncomfortably warm. Josh shifts, pulling at his t-shirt nervously. Sam had dropped some clothes off for him before he had to leave for this appointment, but nothing he owns quite fits right anymore.

The therapist must see him fidgeting, because she finally turns her attention away from the sheaf of paper on her lap. She smiles kindly and gives her pen a few clicks, maybe trying to gauge who should start first.

Josh stays quiet, deciding to let her make a move first. He isn’t eager to start this process all over again.

She sets the pen on her pad and sighs softly, brushing hair back from her face. Josh wonders unbidden if Hannah would be jealous of the length. It fell to her lower back, longer than Hannah could ever manage. But it’s much lighter, where he and the twins have hair that’s so dark it’s nearly black, the doctor’s shines auburn under the unflattering fluorescent lights.

Josh only realizes he’s getting distracted when she starts to speak.

“So,” she says, folding her hands over her crossed legs. “I was given access to your files, and I’m mostly aware of what brought you here, more directly speaking.” She smiles again. “But I find working backwards to be a bit unfavorable. So why don’t we start from where you see fit. You can tell as little or as much as you like.”

Josh blinks. “How about ‘none’?”

She smiles, unperturbed by his lack of cooperation. “Well, this isn’t my session, so it would be a bit unfair for me to talk your ear off. Now that only leaves you,” she says, gesturing with an open palm. “Unless you’d like to sit in silence for an hour…?”

Josh frowns, eyebrows furrowing. “Not really.”

She beams. “Good.” She clicks her pen, setting it to the pad. “Whenever you’re ready, then.”

* * *

 

Josh braces his hands on the railing of the small balcony, looking out at the city. He takes a deep breath through his nose, trying to relax. The smog burns his throat like it never used to. He craves the clear air up on the mountain.

He sighs, shifting forward to lean on his elbows, hands dangling in the air. He’d never be able to go up there again, he supposes. And even if he could, he’d be paranoid the whole time. Maybe he’ll just have to find another mountain to retreat to.

A bright flash and movement in the corner of his bad eye catches his attention. He whips his head around to look, falling still. He’s almost ready to dismiss it as sunlight bouncing off a window when there’s another flash. He curls his lip when he sees. A small figure standing against an adjacent building, taking pictures with an enormous camera. Of course. The last Washington kid makes it off the mountain and everyone needs to know what happened.

He storms back into the room, slamming the sliding door. _Well,_ he thinks, _there’s their cover shot. A monster in a hospital gown baring its teeth at the poor reporter._ He draws the curtains with a snarl.

“What’s up?” a voice asks.

Josh whirls, biting his tongue to keep from cursing. How is it that one eye can see a flash from hundreds of feet away, and the other can’t see his best friend standing across the room. “Hey Cochise. The paps are out again.”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “Seriously?”

Josh shrugs, trying to feign disinterest. “What can I say? I’m hot shit right now.”

Chris doesn’t buy it. “Are they bothering you?”

Josh sighs, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “They’ve always bothered me.”

He and the twins were occasionally extras in their dad’s movies. They were never killed, and hardly ever faced the killer in any way. Even having extensive lines to memorize was uncommon. But it meant their names were in the credits, and it meant media felt they had a right to their image.

He remembers seeing a few too many camera flashes at his high school graduation, pictures cropping up of him being escorted out of hospitals by his parents, his sisters sometimes hovering in the background.

It was never big time magazines, he never had to see his own face at the supermarket, but it was little rags online that loved to spread rumors on the off chance they would catch, or new TMZ photographers they couldn’t trust with the big stars just yet.

He got the worst of it, because he was the “problem child”. He’d thrown a coffee at a reporter once. Sam and Beth had had a fight, and she was distressed, and in no mood for a camera to be shoved in her face. So Josh had calmly taken the top off his fresh americano and tossed it on the paparazzo.

The upside was it had taken most of the scrutiny off of his sisters. He’d do it all over again if it meant keeping them out of it.

Of course, it didn’t matter now, because they were gone and Josh was still getting the attention he never really asked for. And now it would be even worse.

Chris makes a sympathetic face like he’s remembering the same things Josh is.

“So, looks like you’re finally free to roam,” Chris says, changing the topic.

Josh lets him with a stiff smile. “Yep. Weaned me off the pain meds and decided I can be responsible for my own hydration now. Also I had an appointment with a therapist here, and dragging the whole drip with me would be a little over the top. ‘S not like I’m dying here.”

Chris raises a brow. “How did that go?"

Josh waves a hand and sits on the bed. “It was just ‘getting to know you’ stuff. Same with every shrink, basically.”

Chris nods, dropping onto the bed next to Josh. He stifles his flinch, disguising it as a roll of his shoulders. Chris either doesn’t notice or pretends not to.

He’s still nervous about any proximity greater than the distance between the single armchair and his bed. Chris sits close, their knees almost touching, and Josh glances down at his own hands. His fingers are still bandaged, but his nails are already starting to grow back, baffling his doctors. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to forget the feeling of his nails, hard as any metal, clawing furrows into another human’s bones.

But Chris sits next to him easily, like he doesn’t care that half of Josh’s mouth could shred him like paper. Or that the nails growing back more rapidly than should be humanly possible could tear him apart without any effort.

Like he doesn’t care that they did exactly that to the search crew that found him.

Josh is aware that they’re sitting in a silence that slowly stretches out before them, but doesn’t particularly care to break it. He’s done enough talking to last him all week.

He’d talked about his sisters more than he meant to, reminiscing about childhood memories, noting that one of his first memories was of wrestling a toy car from Beth, who had recently learned to walk, so she wouldn’t choke on it.

Now he’s stuck in a loop of memories of life with his sisters and life without them. Being hospitalized before they died and after. He’d been sent in for observation again one month after they went missing. It wasn’t much later that he was put on stronger meds, especially after Doctor Hill realized he had been self-medicating.

He wonders what they’ll try next, if anything. Or if they’ll finally just let him be.

“So, Jess is doing better,” Chris tries.

Josh blinks sluggishly. “Oh?” is all he can manage. Trying to wrangle himself back to reality now would be like trying to force a square peg through a round hole. So he lets Chris talk about x-rays and physical therapy and hopes he knows he isn’t being inattentive on purpose.

His head is fuzzy, not like when he was put on meds that didn't agree with him, but more like a dull static roar in the background of everything. It makes it hard to concentrate, like trying to take directions while the radio is playing.

“Josh? You with me?”

He sighs, resisting the urge to cover his ears. It won't block out the noise, so he won't even try. “In spirit, bud.”

Chris smiles sympathetically. “I hear that. We can just chill.”

Josh smiles lopsidedly. “Sounds good to me. Haven't been able to really chill in… well, at least a year.”

Chris’ smile turns sad, but it doesn't fade. He drops a hand on Josh’s shoulder, who pretends the coiling anxiety in his gut is just the fear of every sharp edge he's now hyper aware of. “I know. It's good to have you back, man.”

They spend the rest of the afternoon in silence, Chris occasionally getting a notification and angling the phone so Josh can snort at an indirect from Emily, or an emoji-filled text from Jess.

Josh tries not to think about how muddled the past year feels, how some weeks stretched for lifetimes, and how others are gone entirely from his memory.

Instead he focuses on the starchy sheets under him, Chris’ steady breathing, and the diluted sunlight streaming through the curtains.


	10. Chapter 10

Chris had to leave early for some apparently-secret errand, so Sam is catching Josh up on what everyone else has been doing since getting off the mountain, telling stories and flipping through pictures when she stops on a particularly strange one. Sam’s mom, leaning her elbows on a grocery cart nearly spilling over with food, grinning ear to ear.

Josh laughs incredulously. “ _ What _ is going on here?”

Sam snorts, smiling fondly. “My mom insisted we need to have everyone over once you’re discharged. A big “family” dinner.”

Josh grins, his heart swelling at the sentiment. Barbara had maternal instinct that was unmatched. She had acted like a second mother whenever Josh and the twins came over. Even when his health had started declining, all that had changed was the frequency of her insistence that he was welcome any time. 

Sam’s phone buzzes, stirring him from his reverie. The picture is replaced by a call screen, his own mother’s name across the top.

Sam looks shocked, and starts to pull the phone back towards her, but Josh quickly reaches out and slips the phone from her grasp. “Josh, wait-”

He hits ‘accept’ and raises it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Josh!” Melinda gasps. “Honey, I didn’t know you were with Samantha! It’s so good to hear your voice-”

“Where are you and Dad?” he asks, deadpan. 

Sam blanches, and judging by the silence on the other end, his mother is similarly perturbed. 

“Josh...” she starts. He sighs loudly, but she continues. “You know how important this movie is to your father, it took him so long to push the script through-”

Josh scowls, and Sam takes that as her hint to go. She stands and jerks a thumb to the door, probably saying she’ll be just outside. Josh ignores her.

“Well then he can wait a little longer, can’t he?”

“ _ Joshua, _ ” his mother hisses.

“Melinda,” he snaps back as he curls his lip. He’d stopped being scared by the full name card years ago. They usually meant well, but that didn’t always mean the best for him.

There’s a shuffle and Melinda takes a deep breath away from the receiver. Josh resists the urge to grind his teeth. He doesn’t want to risk tearing his cheek.

“Do you have any idea when they’re letting you out?” she asks, voice quieter now.

Josh deflates. He doesn’t want to fight, not now. “No,” he mutters. “I’m pretty much on a need to know basis. I guess when my therapist gives the go ahead.”

“Oh, they have you seeing someone there?”

“Yeah. And I think I like her more than Doctor Hill. I’d rather see her, if I still can once I’m discharged.” He’d rather not see  _ anybody _ , but after his hallucinations on the mountain, he can’t fathom facing Hill again.

“Of course,” Melinda says, back to the doting tone she had when he answered the call. “Whatever you think would help. We can talk more about it when you get home.”

Josh opens his mouth and closes it again, thinking.

“Josh?” his mom asks. “What is it?”

“I don’t think I want to come home,” he blurts.

“... What?” She sounds hurt, but Josh pushes on.

“I never wanted to move back,” he tells her. “I can’t say school would’ve worked out but-” he pauses over his next words. “I don’t think being… there is going to help me right now. I don't think it ever helped.”

He can only imagine his sister’s rooms, sat undisturbed for over a year now. And how their rooms up on the mountain are rubble now. He feels a little sick at the parallel to the inhabitants of those rooms.

“I understand,” Melinda says, softly, like she’s holding back tears. “There are a lot of memories at home. What would you rather do?”

He remembers sharing a dorm with Chris, the late nights spent cramming, or playing video games, or hosting secret parties that only happened because the RAs attended. 

“I think I’ll talk to Chris. See what he has planned now.” Josh realizes that Chris has missed weeks of school now because of his petty grab for revenge, and feels slightly sick. He didn’t even try catching up after Beth and Hannah went missing. He can only imagine the mountain of work that would be. 

“That’s a great idea!” Melinda enthuses. “It would be good to have some support, instead of just staying on your own.”

“I’ll talk to you more later, Mom,” he says, aware that visiting hours were slowly ticking away.

“Alright, sweetie. Let me know when you get a new phone, okay?”

“Will do.” He ends the call, and slumps back against the pillows with a sigh. “Hey, Sammy,” he calls. “You eavesdropping out there?”

“Well when you shout like that I am,” she calls back a heartbeat before the door opens. “Everything good?”

Josh shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”

\-- 

Chris hefts the last box and looks back at the barren room, remembering all the days spent here with Josh. 

Josh had been a film major, and he was a game development major with a minor in photography. They’d been lucky to get accepted to the same school, and it had been a no-brainer when they were informed that roommates could be picked voluntarily if you didn’t want to go in the raffle. 

He glances at the stain on the carpet left from a night just weeks before the twins went missing, when they had accidentally tried to play spin the bottle with a half-drunk beer bottle. Despite having half the floor’s residents in their room, that had been a dangerous night. One of Josh’s spins had landed directly between Chris and a girl whose name he couldn’t remember through the haze of liquor. 

They had shared a glance, neither sure of what to do, but before either of them could say a thing their floormate had stretched across the circle and pulled Josh in by the collar of his flannel. 

He shuts the door on the memory, wondering what would’ve happened in the bottle had stopped just a few inches to the right. Maybe everything would be different. And maybe nothing would. 

A familiar voice rouses him from the nostalgia. “Wow, leaving me all alone with the plebs Hartley?”

Leaned against the wall opposite his room is Lena, one of his classmates. She was a few inches shorter than him, with big, dark eyes, and her normally-voluminous hair pleated down into intricate braids, probably preparing for the oncoming heat. 

She had been the one to not only explain the theory of “impostor syndrome” to Chris, but also the only one to make him feel it. She blew him out of the water in every class, and had become a fast friend. 

He chuckles. “Sorry. I’ve had a rough few weeks, and school is just… An intimidating prospect.”

Lena frowns at that. “You’ve had a rough  _ year _ dude. How’s the boyfriend doing?”

Chris sighs. One downside to becoming so close to Lena was that she because she was separated from his usual friend group she was a great ear to vent to. But that also meant she had more ammo to tease Chris with than just about anybody, with the exception of Josh.

“ _ Not _ my boyfriend,” he reminds her.

“Yet,” she says with a blinding grin. 

He just rolls his eyes. “ _ Anyway _ , he’s… Better. And worse. It’s complicated.”

“So what are you doing after this?” she asks.

Chris shifts the box uncomfortably. He hasn’t thought about that yet. “Being there for him. Beyond that… I dunno.”

Lena’s expression softens into a fond smile. “Aw. What a good friend. You’ll win him over yet, Hartley.”

Chris snorts. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

Lena nods her head over her shoulder. “C’mon. Let me walk you out.”

Chris nods, and the two walk to the stairs together. Lena holds the front door of the building for him with a sweeping gesture, to which he attempts a sloppy curtsy before they both burst out in laughter. 

They’re walking across the sprawling campus when Chris asks, “You remember Sam, right?"

Lena nods thoughtfully. “The cute lesbian who looked like she could be your sister?”

Chris scoffs. “Sure. Anyway, I made a promise to her while we were up at the lodge this year.”

Lena frowns. “Okay. That sounds ominous.”

“Josh… had an accident,” he fibs, deciding not to go into detail. “And before Sam and I knew what would happen, she made me promise to tell him how I feel if he got better.”

Lena’s brows raise to her hairline. “And?” 

“He’s better, and I haven’t said anything yet. I’m still scared it’ll make things weird,” he admits. “I’d rather just be his friend than take that chance.”

Lena sighs, tossing her braids over one shoulder. “Okay, having zero context I’m assuming Sam asked you to do that because some serious shit went down. Was Josh the only one who got hurt?”

Chris shakes his head, thinking of Mike and Jess. “Pretty much everyone did. But Josh and a few of our other friends were in the worst shape.”

She nods. “See, shit like that happens all the time. You don’t control how much time you get. You have to do reckless stuff sometimes, because you might never get another chance. Y’know, live the day like it was your last or whatever.”

Chris sighs as they stop next to his truck. He tosses the box into the back and turns back to Lena. “How old are you, 20? Where’s all this wisdom coming from?”

She laughs and points at her cheek jokingly. “Right here, Hartley.”

He chuckles with her. “Shut up. That was terrible.”

She socks him in the shoulder. “I’ll miss you too, jerk.”

“Well, you have my number. Don’t hesitate to text me if you need to talk to someone on your level.”

Lena grins again. “Please. Like you’ll ever be on my level.” She pulls him into a hug, surprising him. She steps back and claps him on the shoulders. “Enjoy the trip back.”

Chris groans. “I might stay just to avoid traffic,” he says.

“Don’t whine. Go get your boy.”

Chris makes a face and opens the driver side door. “Okay, now I’m definitely leaving.”

She laughs, and rests a hand on the door. “Seriously, call me if anything happens. I’m invested now.”

Chris smiles. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you out of the loop.” He shuts the door and Lena steps back, waving as she moves back onto the sidewalk. She turns back toward the dorms and Chris starts his truck, ready for the hours-long trip back to LA. 

He’s about an hour out of the small college town when his phone rings. Traffic is at a complete standstill, so he accepts the call, quickly switches it to speaker, and tosses it on his dashboard. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Sam’s voice emanates from the small speaker.

“What’s up Sam?”

“Have you said anything to Josh yet?” she asks.

Chris shifts in his seat. “Jeez, are you psychic?” he tries. “Seriously, you have some great timing Sammy.”

“Don’t change the subject,” she says, exasperated. “I’m just wondering.”

He sighs. “No. I figured it would be a lot to drop first thing after he woke up.”

“Sure, sure. I just don’t want you to procrastinate.”

“Really?” he asks, disbelieving. “Is that all you called for?”

“Oh, and to let you know my mom asked me to help her with some baking and cleaning tomorrow. So I won’t be around to visit Josh. Y’know, if you want to have any important discussions.”

Chris chuckles. “You’re such a facilitator. Do you ever just let something happen on its own?”

“Hey, I’m just keeping you updated. Not trying to say anything.”

“Right. Bye, Sam.”

Her laugh fills the car. “Talk to you later, Chris.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) see you next chapter
> 
> (also lena's name was inspired by tracer, not L.D. never her.)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm posting early bc fuck it i love this chapter and i'm excited for y'all to read it let's go
> 
> (also i've changed my url to bpdtamara for the duration of march, in case there was any confusion!)

“So, what’s so important that you had to abandon me all day?” Josh asks, eyes sparkling with mirth.

Chris rests his head on the palm of his hand. “Moving all of my clothes and shit out of the dorm,” he confesses.

Josh raises a brow. “No kidding. You’re not going back?”

Chris shrugs. “Not this year. I take it you’re not either?”

Josh barks out a laugh. “Please. Can you imagine having to explain this to everyone?” he asks, gesturing at his face.

Chris hums in agreement, too tired to hold up his end of the conversation. He’d left the campus just after the sun had set, and hadn’t gotten home until midnight. Apparently he’d gone the day spring break had started for several schools, and the traffic going south had been even worse than usual. 

“Besides, last year was pretty shit anyway.”

Josh tilts his head curiously. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Chris shrugs somewhat half-heartedly, slumping further into his seat with a barely-muffled yawn. He tries not to think about the bed that had been empty more often than not, the seat in their few shared classes that remained vacant, and- worst of all- how even when they were occupied, it barely seemed like it.

“Y’know. Whatever,” he mumbles tiredly. 

Josh chuckles. “Dude, if you need to take a nap I won’t get mad. Go get some sleep.”

“No, no,” Chris insists, sitting up straighter to try and stay awake. “I’m fine, really. Tell me what the doctor said about your x-rays?”

“Oh, right,” Josh said, snapping his fingers. “So like, I gained a few inches, right? And they wanted to figure out how that happened, like, make sure my spine isn’t all stretched out of whack or something.”

Chris nods, leaning his elbows on the edge of the bed. He can feel himself drifting as Josh continues on, but the warm sun coming through the windows and the gentle murmur of background noise in the hall makes his eyes hang heavy, the atmosphere of the room feeling like a blanket over his shoulders. 

* * *

 

A hand nudges him in his sleep. Chris mumbles wordlessly, attempting to bat the hand away. Josh’s throaty chuckle pulls him closer to consciousness. “Wake up, Cochise.”

Chris lifts his head, blinking and peering around the dark room. Josh is looking down at him with a crooked smirk, eyes twinkling mischievously. Chris frowns, wondering what he could be looking at. 

Then he realizes his arms are crossed over Josh’s outstretched legs, effectively pinning him in place. He had been napping in Josh’s lap. He pulls away, blushing. “Sorry, man.”

Josh waves a hand. “It’s no big, I just seriously have to pee.”

Chris flushes deeper, grateful for the lack of light in the room. Josh just continues to stare at him when he doesn’t respond, seeming unbothered by the darkness. Chris wonders who turned the lights off.

“Why have you stayed?” the question is barely a whisper, barely audible over the beeping heart monitor.

“What?” Chris asks, throat going dry.

Josh finally looks away, turning his head. “Even Sam knows she doesn’t have to spend every waking hour with me. I just can’t figure why you’d bother-” Josh stops, his jaw working like he’s chewing over his words.

“You’re my best friend, Josh.” Chris says lamely.

Josh gives him an unimpressed look from the corner of his eye. “So is Sam,” Josh reminds him, not unkindly. “I figured at least Ashley would hang around more if you were here.”

Chris winces at the venom in his voice. He wonders if that’s new, or if he got worse at hiding it. “I… don’t think things are gonna work out with me and Ash, man.”

Josh whips his head around, looking shocked. “What?” he asks.

“Yeah, I- I mean after everything I realized we don’t really-” Chris pauses, mouth feeling dry. “There’s someone else,” he bursts out before he can stop himself.

Josh looks quizzical. “You’re kidding me.” It’s not a question, just unfiltered surprise. “Who? I mean, you know Sam is gay, right man? I’m sure you guys had some great bonding time tracking my ass down but that doesn’t mean-”

“It’s you,” Chris says in a rush. “It’s- the someone else is you, Josh.” He feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, but also like his stomach dropped down to his feet. It’s a disorienting sensation.

“... What?” Josh asks, still staring at him.

Chris sighs, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his face. “I’ve had a crush on you for years, dude,” he admits. “At first I didn’t realize that’s what it was, and then I was worried I would freak you out or you wouldn’t swing that way but Sam made me promise I’d tell you if everything turned out okay and now I’ve just been skulking around here trying to get the balls to-”

Josh cuts his rambling off with a warm grip around one of his wrists, gently prying a hand away from his face. Chris is startled to see Josh’s face much closer than it was just a moment ago. “Bro. Stop talking.”

Chris swallows and nods, face getting even hotter. Josh just looks at him, seeming to scan his face. Then he sighs, reaching up to pull down Chris’ other hand too, not letting go of either of them. “C’mere.” Josh murmurs, locking eyes with him. “I have to tell you something.”

It’s a total middle school move, but Chris leans in anyway, not entirely sure of what he’s seeing. Josh leans too, and for a split second he worries it might be a joke, that Josh is still messing with him for some cruel sense of retribution. 

But Josh’s lips meet his, and it feels like everything else stops. The kiss is chaste, and gentle, ragged teeth still jutting from one side of Josh’s face, but it still makes Chris’ heart race.  It takes him a moment to remember he should be moving, doing  _ something, _ not just sitting there like a dead fish- when Josh pulls away Chris is sure he’s blushing so hard Josh could feel it.

Josh meets his eyes with a small smile. “I like you too, man.”

“What? Seriously?” Chris splutters.

“Yeah, Chris,” Josh says with a chuckle. “I thought I was making it pretty obvious.”

“Right, by pushing me towards someone else,” Chris responds incredulously. 

Josh grins at that. “Hey, I never said I thought I deserved you, man.”

Chris scoffs at that, but as he fumbles for what to say next, all he can think of is “Didn't you say you had to pee?”

Josh smiles even wider. “Sorry, I lied.” Then he cups a hand over Chris’ cheek, pulling him in for another kiss. 

Chris has to swallow down a desperate noise as he presses up into the kiss, hands braced against the hospital bed. This is something he had dreamt about in middle school, and given up on by the time they got to college. He wonders, if he had known everything that led up to this would have to happen first, if he would’ve stopped chasing this fantasy so desperately. 

But then Josh’s tongue swipes across his lips and Chris’ mind goes blank. He groans, opening his mouth at the contact. The hand on his cheek moves to the back of his head, pulling him closer. Chris rises to his feet so Josh doesn’t have to double over, and places his hands on either side of Josh’s neck.

Josh lets out a rumbling moan that Chris is sure must be new. It has a quality almost like a purr, coming from deep in Josh’s chest. But Chris abandons the thought to focus on the kiss. Josh’s free hand knots in his hair, the other bumping clumsily against his chest. Chris spends a light-headed second wondering what made Josh’s hand so cumbersome before he hears the speedy beeping of the machine on the opposite side of the bed.

Chris pulls back with a breathless laugh. “Getting worked up?”

Josh wrinkles his nose. “Do you want me to kick you out, or do you want to shut up?”

They both laugh then, leaning into each other. Chris reaches over, pressing Josh back against the pillows, and yanks the cord from the back of the machine, silencing it. “Much better,” he says.

Josh wiggles his fingers where they’re trapped between their chests. “I’m definitely fond of this position.”

Chris flushes, and he hopes the “Oh?” he chokes out in response sounds more suave than it did to his ears.

Josh smirks, moving his hand to the back of Chris’ neck to pull them together again.

Chris is considering the logistics of sharing a hospital bed when the door opens. A nurse pokes her head in, starting a very confused, “Visiting hours are over-” before she seems to register the scene in front of her as the two wrench apart. She flushes and fumbles out a rushed apology before hurrying from the room.

Chris groans, dropping his head to Josh’s shoulder. “Kill me,” he says, fisting his hands in Josh’s hospital gown.

Josh chuckles, patting Chris’s head. “Didn’t realize you were this easy to get riled up, Cochise.”

He lifts his head, shooting Josh an accusing glare. “You’re one to talk.”

Josh flushes at that, but it doesn’t quite wipe the smirk off his face. “What, surprised at your own performance?” he asks. He lifts a hand to cup one side of Chris’ face again, smirk fading into a small smile. “You should go home,” he insists.

Chris jerks back in surprise, but Josh’s grip keeps him from going far. “What? But I thought-”

Josh’s thumb strokes the bags under his eye. The full medical tape is gone, replaced by regular adhesive bandages protecting the exposed nail beds. “Time and a place, Chris. Besides, I don’t think this bed is built for two.” Josh smirks up at him. “Okay?”

Chris relaxes with a sigh, but doesn’t give in. “I don’t wanna leave without you, man,” he murmurs impulsively.

Josh’s expression falters for a moment, leaving him looking lost. But it passes before Chris can fully register it, replaced by his usual bravado. “C’mon man, it’s just like being under observation again. It’s nothing serious. I’ll still be here in the morning, even if you aren’t.”

Chris swallows and nods. He can still taste iron on his tongue. “You promise?” he asks, only half-serious.

That earns him a more earnest smile. “Yeah, I promise.”

Chris smiles back, and leans in for a quick kiss. Josh indulges him, humming against his lips. “Alright, go on.”

Chris gets one last peck in on the uninjured corner of Josh’s mouth before ducking out of the room. He shuffles down the hall in a daze, still smiling dopily. He’s almost out of the hospital before he remembers his truck is still at home. He curses and pulls out his phone to call a ride.

Despite it being the tail-end of winter, Chris stands outside in his two-layer minimum without any problems. The sky is a blanket of black above him, only the brightest stars and planets peeking through. He pulls out his phone and decides to shoot a quick text to Sam.

[20:23] welp i held up my end of the bargain

An immediate response from Sam.

[20:23] ????

[20:24] i finally told josh

This time there’s a pause, but it’s barely enough time for him to decide to stow his phone again as he climbs into the car that pulls up before it buzzes.

[20:26] !!!  
[20:26] That’s great, Chris!  
[20:27] shit wait what did he say

Chris chuckles as he types out a response.

[20:29] uh he likes me too apparently? which is a pleasant surprise

Sam manages to get a word in before he can send the second part of his message. 

[20:29] Oh please Chris. Even you aren’t that blind.

He hits ‘send’ just to shut her up.

[20:29] also we kissed, so there’s that

Then when he doesn’t see the three blinking dots, he types again.

[20:31] uh unless you think josh would be opposed to kissing and telling in which case you didn’t hear it from me

Sam finally texts back after a worrying period of silence.

[20:36] Sorry, I was just checking the betting pool. I think I’m going to treat you two to dinner when Josh gets released :-)

[20:36] i hate you samantha

Sam responds with the sparkling heart emoji, so Chris just stuffs the phone back in his pocket, leaning his head back against the seat, watching the streetlights zip past. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is your totally innocent, definitely-not-hinting-at-anything reminder that comments are always super appreciated, even if i don't reply 100% of the time. y'know, just saying  
> (nah for real though you guys are great thank you for all the support)

Chris cracks open the door, peering through. “Hey.”

Josh looks up with a smile. “Hey. C’mon, take a load off.”

Chris steps into the room and flops down into the chair, almost feeling more comfortable here than he does at home. Maybe it’s just the way Josh smiles, really smiles like he did before his sisters went missing, but Chris would spend every waking hour here if he could. 

Josh’s unhindered hand gently snatches one of Chris’ off the armrest of the chair, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles before smiling mischievously. 

Chris flushes, but tries to keep his cool. “So. We should probably talk about this, huh?”

Josh groans like he’s been asked to perform a Herculean task. “Do we have to?” He kisses the back of Chris’ hand now, the flat of his teeth pulling at the skin lightly.

Chris jumps at the feeling, and tries to hide it by shifting forward in his seat. Josh doesn’t seem fooled, smirking against Chris’ hand. “I think it would be smart if we did.”

Josh hums, the sound buzzing against the skin of Chris’ hand, before he deftly turns it over and presses a wet kiss to his palm.

Chris makes a half-choked, half-disgusted sound in the back of his throat before wrenching his hand away. 

Josh chuckles and leans back against the veritable mountain of pillows he’s amassed, looking proud of himself.

“Alright,” Chris says, crossing his arms and tucking his hands against his sides. “You don’t have anything to distract yourself now.”

Josh sighs, tipping his head back. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?” Despite his attempt at indifference and boredom, Josh peers at him curiously.

Chris mulls it over for a minute, pursing his lips. “Well, I guess- what does this change, for a start?”

Josh lifts his head up. “What do you mean?”

Chris resists the urge to roll his eyes. “We’re not exactly strangers, Josh. We already spend a lot of time together. I just mean like- do you want this to be a…  _ thing? _ ”

Josh sits up straighter, mouth curling into a smirk. “Bro, are you asking me to  _ go steady? _ ”

Chris punches him in the arm. “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question.”

Josh hums thoughtfully. “I suppose.” After a pause, he asks, “Do you want it to change anything?”

Chris’ throat goes dry as he remembers all of his daydreams throughout middle school and high school, from the more lascivious to innocent ones. “Yeah,” he says. “I think so.”

Josh smiles crookedly. “Yeah? Like what?”

Chris feels his face get hot. “What, do you want me to spell it out for you?”

Josh grins, teeth glinting in the fluorescent light. 

Chris sighs, turning his eyes to the ceiling. He feels like he might burn to ash at this rate. “I don’t know, normal shit people do when they’re together,” he says, exasperated. “More of what we did last night,” he adds in a mutter.

Josh leans forward, resting his chin on a hand. “I dunno, you might have to help me clear up the details on that one.”

Chris can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. “You’re incorrigible,” he admonishes even as he pushes himself up.

Josh grins. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Chris stands, leaning into Josh’s personal space. Josh doesn’t move, just blinks up at him slowly, crooked smile still plastered on. It would be almost menacing with his razor-sharp molars if he didn’t look so much like the cat who caught the canary. 

Chris wipes the smirk off his face with a quick kiss, diving in to press their lips together. His heart flutters, still in disbelief that this isn’t just a vivid daydream. 

Josh pulls back slightly, smiling more genuinely this time. “Ohhh, right.  _ That, _ ” he says, all cheek.

Chris snorts and kisses him again, placing a hand at his waist. Josh sighs contentedly, lifting a hand to rest where Chris’ neck meets his shoulder. 

This time Chris breaks apart, resting his forehead against Josh’s. Chris looks between his eyes, one cloudy and grey, the other clear and green. He smiles softly and delivers a swift peck to his lips before moving further back.

“Now, when we have weekend-long gaming marathons, are those dates?” he asks.

Josh taps his chin thoughtfully. “I dunno. I suppose so. Is this a date?” he returns.

Chris laughs. “What, visiting you in the hospital? Seems like a shitty date to me, man. It’s called being a good person.”

Josh’s face twitches slightly, but his smile doesn’t shift. “Touche.” He sits back, his hand slipping down to catch one of Chris' own. 

Chris squeezes his fingers before asking, “Well?”

Josh raises a brow. “Well what?”

“Do you… y’know, want us to be dating?”

Josh scoffs, smiling. “Dude. Of course. You think I’m not gonna take every opportunity I can to flaunt my sweet arm candy?”

Chris groans, pulling his hand back. “Alright, if you’re not going to take this seriously-”

Josh laughs loudly at that, snapping his hand out to catch Chris by the lapel of his flannel. “Relax, I’m messing with you bro. Sorry.”

Chris immediately folds, smiling back at Josh, and blushing as he gets pulled even closer by the shirt. 

“Yes,” Josh says, earnestly. “I want us to date. And go out together. And I want to call you my boyfriend when we go out together. Okay?”

Chris smiles wider. “Yeah. Same here.”

Josh gives him another tug by the flannel, smashing their lips together. Chris hums happily, cupping Josh’s face with his hands. 

Josh snorts out a quick laugh, pulling away to catch his breath. “Okay, I don’t think your visits can be just nonstop makeouts, as much as I wish that was the case.”

Chris chuckles, flopping back into his seat, taking one of Josh’s hands with him. “Fair enough. What else do you have in mind?”

“Well, how did cleaning out the dorm go? You kinda conked out before i got the whole story.”

“Oh, right.” Chris chuckles. “Well, you’ll never believe who I ran into on my way out…”

* * *

 

“Any idea how long they’re keeping you here?” Chris asks as the clock ticks down to the last few minutes of visiting hours.

Josh hums thoughtfully, fiddling with the cord to the heart rate monitor, and shrugs. “Until everyone gives the ‘okay’ I guess.”

Chris frowns. “Aren’t they telling you much?”

Josh purses his lips, dropping the wire. “I don’t think they know much. Kind of a groundbreaking case here.”

Chris nods. “What about your therapist?”

Josh thinks about for a moment, looking pensive. “Well, I’m not going on any new meds,” he informs Chris. “Antidepressants weren’t working, and she’s not sure what would be best to try next. So we’re just doing like, behavioral therapy or whatever.”

Chris nods. “That makes sense.”

Josh raises a brow. “What, did they tell you how fucked up those meds were?”

Chris opens his mouth and shuts it again, glancing down at his anxiously shuffling feet. “They uh, they didn’t have to,” he admits. “Sam saw your file in your… workshop, and showed me when we came back for you.”

Josh frowns. “Seriously? You guys just go around open folders willy-nilly?”

Chris makes a face. “I mean, you  _ did _ make Sam think she was being chased by a murderer. Can you blame her for snooping?”

Josh sighs. “Fair enough.” After a pause, he looks puzzled. “So you’re telling me Sam found everything down there and… still didn’t put it together that I at least had something to do with it all?”

“We thought you were  _ dead,  _ man.” Chris reminds him bluntly. “That wouldn’t be the first thing on our minds.”

Josh shrugs. “Remind me to ask her how she made salutatorian.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Don’t be mean. We saved your ass.”

Josh wrinkles his nose. “Please tell me you’re not going to hold that over my head forever.”

Chris smiles. “Don’t worry. Just figured it couldn’t hurt, since we’re on the topic of reminding you about things.”

Josh scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes. After a brief silence, he sighs. “Well, if we’re on the topic of me leaving the hospital-”

Chris raises a brow. “What’s up?”

Josh shuffles over, patting the empty space next to him. Chris slips in next to him easily, gently taking the hand between them. Josh drops his head on Chris’ shoulder, careful to keep his teeth distant. 

“My mom called,” he explains. “About school, living situations and shit.” He sighs. “Because the plan eventually was to go back to college. I didn’t  _ want _ to live with my parents, but after the twins-” He stops, letting the sentence die between them.

“And you don’t want to move back in after you’re discharged?” Chris guesses.

“Bingo. Now it’s the decision of what else to do.”

“Well, I’m out of the dorm too now. You could come bunk with me and dad,” Chris jokes.

Josh laughs at that. “Sorry, Cochise, that’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

Chris hums thoughtfully. “Well gee, I can’t think of any other options. What do you think the rent on a park bench is like?” He laughs as Josh levels a glare at him.

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitches as he tries to keep his deadpan expression. “You’re the worst, Chris.”

Chris looks surprised, shrugging. “Well, do you have any ideas?” he asks.

Josh groans, leaning back and throwing an arm over his eyes. “I’m sorry for messing with you earlier, okay?” he whines, looking pained.

Chris stifles a chuckle. “I’m just asking! I can’t imagine what else there could be.”

Josh pouts for a moment before dropping his arm, lifting his head to meet Chris’ eyes. “Does it count as ‘moving too fast’ if I ask you to get an apartment with me, or does being friends for 10 years kind of negate that?”

Chris laughs at that. “I think you’re forgetting I also put up with your ass in that dorm room for most of a school year. Of course we can get an apartment.”

“Yeah?” Josh asks, smiling crookedly. 

“ _ Hell  _ yeah,” Chris replies. “I'll start looking into places around town. You care about the neighborhood?”

“As long as Emily can't accuse me of trying to abandon you losers like she did when we went off to college, I don't care.” 

“Fair enough. Traveling-to-brunch-with-the-gang distance it is, then. I’ll deliver my findings tomorrow, yeah?”

Josh smiles. “I'll be here. Dork.” 

Chris scoffs and twists to face Josh fully, cupping his face to pull him in for a quick goodbye kiss. 

Josh hums happily into the contact, laying a hand over Chris’. 

Chris pulls back, smiling wanly. “It's weird that I finally get to do that.” He admits. 

“Good weird?” Josh asks. 

“Oh no, totally bad weird man, that's why I can't take my hands off you. Just terrible.” Chris continues. 

“Alright, get out of my room already.” Josh says, wrinkling his nose. 

Chris laughs and stands up. “Okay, okay. See you tomorrow, Josh.”

“Bright and early, Cochise.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not much to say about this one, but i hope you guys enjoy!

“And how are you coping with the… more physical trauma?”

Josh has a bad habit of spewing his guts in therapy. It’s like the filter that exists in every other social interaction he has dissolves before his eyes, leaving him with nothing but a straight shot from brain to mouth. It’s what got him on so many hardcore meds in the first place. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut about every awful thing that ran through his head. 

It’s the one mistake he hasn’t learned from, apparently. 

“At least the outside matches the inside now,” he says, before he can stop himself. “Monstrous.”

Doctor Lowry doesn’t look terribly surprised by this thought. Josh supposes when you work in a hospital you hear a lot worse. “Why do you think of yourself that way?” she asks instead.

Josh almost stops himself, backpedals and tries to clean up his mess, but he’s made so incredulous by the question he can’t help but barrel on. “I mean, you must’ve read the report? I tortured my friends for hours, I made them think I was dead, I played games with them, I-” His mouth clicks shut audibly as he forces himself to stop talking.

She nods, folding her hands. “I think this would be a good opportunity to talk about the prank, if you think you’re ready.”

Josh snorts. “You mean if I can handle it? Believe me, it was much more traumatizing for my friends than me.”

Lowry gives him a sympathetic look. “I think the state you were in when you came to this hospital says otherwise.”

Josh opens his mouth and closes it again. He thinks of Sam, having to find her girlfriend’s remains, discovering her best friend had been warped into a monster. Chris, spending hours thinking he sawed Josh in half, and then days thinking he sentenced him to death in that shed. Everyone else who had to come face-to-face with what used to be Hannah while completely lucid, not off their face through withdrawals. 

But those aren’t his stories to tell in therapy. God does he hope his friends get therapy. 

He simply grunts in response, fighting the urge to pick his nails. A once nervous habit has now been turned downright destructive thanks to his new talons, and he'd rather his hands not be any more fucked up than they already are, thanks. 

So instead his fingers worry at the cuffs of one of Chris’ old hoodies that he stole years ago. It had been too big on Chris, and had practically drowned Josh before. 

But now the sleeves barely cover his palms, the bottom just reaching his jeans. 

“I did get the general overview from the police report, and what your friends said on record, but I'd like to hear it from you. Hear what was going through your mind, maybe.”

Josh sighs, tugging the sleeves down over his hands and digging his fingers into the fabric. “Well, that's a lot to unpack.”

She smiles wryly at that. “We have plenty of time.”

“Well, I'm sure you read it started with the prank on my sister…”

* * *

 

Josh bee-lines for the small attached bathroom when he returns to his room. He splashes water on his face, feeling ready for today to just be done with. 

He straightens up, patting his face dry with some paper towels. He braces his hands on the sink, leaning closer to the mirror. “You need to learn to watch your mouth,” he grumbles at his reflection. 

He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing his face. He knows he’s in for a hell of a week when the person in the mirror doesn’t look like him. He purses his lips, zeroing in on the point where they don’t quite meet anymore, tattered and scarred from the teeth tearing through. 

A quick rap on the door startles him from his thoughts. “Josh?” Chris’ voice asks. 

“Just a sec, Cochise,” Josh calls back, turning the tap back on and going through the motions of washing and drying his hands before stepping out. 

Chris’ face breaks into a smile as soon as he sees Josh, though he looks slightly sheepish. “Sorry man, I would’ve waited a few more minutes if I knew you were doing your business. Don’t wanna annoy you.”

Josh laughs, playfully pushing past Chris. “Yeah, can’t you tell? You’re seriously getting on my nerves, man.”

Chris chuckles with him and follows Josh as he meanders over to the glass door. “Hey, I know how to push your buttons when I want to.”

Josh lets out a heavy sigh, sagging against the door. “That you do. And I’m gonna have to put up with that 24/7 eventually, huh?” he asks.

Chris perks up, whipping out his phone. “That reminds me! I didn’t even ask you about apartment stuff- like, how many bedrooms, what floor, do you care about a pool, laundry in the unit-”

Josh drops his hands onto Chris’ shoulders, stopping him short. “Look, if we’re going to get into that, we should sit on the bed so I don’t hit the floor when you put me to sleep.”

Chris snorts, batting his hands away. “Shut up, man! This is important.”

Josh smiles, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Right, real life or death stuff, Chris.”

Chris smirks at him. “Hey, this is your life now. If you want life or death you can head on out to that nice park bench I mentioned.”

“Harsh,” Josh says, pressing a hand to his chest and feigning a wounded look. “But seriously, let’s go sit.”

Chris gives him a searching look, trying to uncover some ulterior motive, but when Josh’s hand wraps around his and links their fingers together it melts away, and he lets himself be led over to the bed.

* * *

 

“Alright,” Chris says when his stomach growls audibly for the third time since the nurse delivered Josh’s lunch. “I’m sorry, but swiping bites from your food just isn’t enough. I gotta go grab something.”

Josh grins. “Don’t worry man, I was gonna say something if you didn’t.”

Chris snorts as he lifts himself from the hospital bed. “What, trying to get rid of me already?”

“You wish. Now go eat already, man. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Chris jabs a finger in Josh’s direction as he pulls the door open. “You better.”

Josh chuckles as the door shuts, going back to his meal. He eats somewhat cautiously, not sure what will send him rushing back to the toilet like his first waking day here. As he does, a flash in the corner of his eye catches his attention. Chris’s phone, abandoned on the small side table.

Josh snatches the phone up, wondering if Chris’ password was still the same. He types in ‘1-2-3-4’ and is greeted by Chris’ homescreen, a picture of the two of them in Halloween costumes- Josh as a pharaoh and Chris as a cowboy- from a few years ago. Josh snorts, and decides going through Instagram is the least invasive thing he can busy himself with. Both of them really only use it to follow everyone else in their group of friends, so it’s a good way to catch up.

Josh looks up with a smile when the door creaks open. “Forget how to get to mess, bro?” he asks.

But the head poking through isn’t Chris’, it’s Ashley, looking very much like a deer in the headlights.

Josh’s smile falls away, and he drops the phone in his lap. “Well, come on in.”

Ashley jumps like she’s been barked at. “Sorry. I- I didn’t know if Chris left because you were resting, so I didn’t want to disturb you by knocking.”

“Why didn’t you just ask Chris?”

She flushes a little. “He probably wouldn’t think this is a good idea,” she mutters.

Josh chuckles. “Probably not.” He pats the arm of the chair. “Well, take a seat. I promise not to bite.”

The joke doesn’t seem to land, because Ashley glances nervously at his teeth, but still seats herself with minimal shuffling and stalling.

If Ashley had anything in mind, she doesn’t seem to know where to start, because she stares at her hands, gnawing on her lower lip as she does so.

Josh sighs. “I’m sorry,” he starts. That gets her wide-eyed attention. “For- for hitting you, and for making you think you watched me get cut in half. Thinking you were going to die.”

Ashley sniffles. “Well I did stab you,” she says. “I mean, I accept your apology, and- and thank you, but… I stabbed you with scissors.” 

Josh laughs. “Yeah, well I kind of deserved it.”

She smiles hesitantly, not quite looking at him. “Yeah, maybe.”

Josh pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m also sorry for… I don’t even know what it was, pitting us against each other? Trying to make Chris choose?”

Ashley squints at him, but it seems more searching than accusatory. “You had to know, right? That he would choose you?”

Josh swallows thickly. “I was- I think I was trying to get him to prove to himself that he cared about you more than me.”

Ashley gives him a real smile this time, even if she still looks sad. “Please, even when I thought he liked me I knew  _ that _   would never be the case.”

Josh draws a hand over his face with a groan. “Good to know everyone got the memo but me.”

Ashley pats the hand still resting on the bed. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Chris is very obvious with his crushes. Actually, I think he’s pretty oblivious to them himself.”

“Oblivious is definitely a word,” Josh says with a smile. Ashley chuckles, and they lapse into a silence that isn’t entirely uncomfortable. But eventually the repetitive ticking of the clock and beeping of his heart monitor grates on his nerves.

“So, this doesn’t… bother you?” he asks.

Ashley gives him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

Josh waves a hand as if to say ‘everything’. “Y’know. Me and Chris being together after you guys had your crush thing going on.”

Ashley smiles. “I’ll admit I was… mad, at first. That Chris was still prioritizing you after everything.” She sighs, looking guilty. “But that’s… it’s not like you meant for it to get so serious.” She bites her bottom lip nervously. “I think I still would’ve been pissed at you for the whole gun thing no matter what else happened though.”

Josh laughs. “Yeah, I can’t blame you for that. That was… too much. In hindsight.”

She cracks another smile. “Besides, I don’t think… Me and Chris-” she furrows her brows, thinking.

“Chris and I,” Josh jokes.

She slaps his arm. “Shut up!” After a pause she says, “I don’t know. I don’t feel like there was a lot there. I mean, Chris is... nice and cute and I like spending time with him, but even when I kissed him-”

“Wait!” Josh interrupts, grinning like a hyena. “You  _ kissed _ Chris?”

She blushes. “He didn’t tell you?”

Josh waves a hand. “Chris is a classy guy. Keeps it close to his chest, y’know?” He stares off into space for a second, pursing his lips. “Man,” he says, still staring blankly. “I can’t believe you beat me to it.”

Ashley scoffs, and swats his arm again. “Ugh! Don’t tell me everyone was betting on that too.”

Josh raises a brow. “There was a bet?”

Ashley flushes. “Let’s just say a lot of people owe Sam money right now.”

Josh chuckles. “You included?”

“I said after you two graduated college, honestly.”

He laughs at that. “Well, I appreciate your confidence in my academic abilities, but if everything had gone right I think you still would’ve lost.”

Ashley’s brows shoot to her hairline, and it occurs to Josh that this is the longest unmediated conversation they’ve ever had. “Really!?”

“Really. You don’t share a dorm room with the guy you’ve had a crush on for years and not do something about it eventually.”

Ashley nods sagely, resting her head on a hand. “That makes sense.”

The door opens, Chris stepping in with a foam container in his hand. “Okay, I think Sam knows me better than I do at this point-” He stops, staring between the two openly.

Ashley waves shyly. “Hi Chris.”

Chris points a finger at her, looking confused. “Alright, first Sam and now me. When did you get so sneaky?”

Ashley gives a cheeky smile at that. “It happens when you’re the oldest child. Not to mention strict parents.”

Chris nods. “Ah, strict parents. That’s the qualifier I don’t meet.”

She stands, holding her hands out. “I’ll leave you two be,” she says.

“You don’t have to,” Chris says, taking another step into the room. 

Ashley shakes her head. “We have plenty of time to catch up later. Don’t want to overstay my welcome.” She turns and waves to Josh before walking over to Chris.

She pulls him into a hug that ends up being awkwardly one-armed as he holds his food, then leaves the room.

Chris shoots Josh a quizzical look. “You two have a talk?”

Josh smiles. “Yeah. It was good.”

“Huh.” Chris still looks slightly baffled. “Good!”

Josh perks up, like he’s trying to sniff out what Chris is carrying. “So, whatcha got there Cochise?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm mlrrormlrror on tumblr! Feel free to come and chat! And if you want updates on upcoming chapters, check #atsc on my blog!


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